Sunday was amazing. Greg said “Listen to the Holy Spirit and release your faith to share,” during the prayer time before church. He even gave extra opportunity to wait on those who were debating on whether or not to share. Chris, our pastor, followed with a sermon about how we were vessels for the Lord’s use. We should strive to be vessels of honor, even cleansing ourselves from any dishonor so that we can be so. 

Following service, a group of us prayed for a precious friend and church member. She is suffering with cancer.

I wondered, as we stood around the room, how many of us were fighting with our own belief. All of us had experienced God’s presence, healing, and restoration. Yet, unbelief clings like the smell of a fire you’ve been around. How do you rid yourself from that smokey smell? How do you stand in the calm assurance of what you know to be true when doubt seems irresistable. Doubt is the candy you know not to eat; yet, your mouth waters for it in an unconscious response. The nagging humanity pulls against the truth you know.

There I stood in the argument between the known truth and the unnaturally appealing lie. Standing as still as a soldier, I was waiting for the command to go forward into the battle and the threat of harm or death. The moments intensified because I decided that I wanted faith. The wave and smell of the battle came closer and felt bigger and bigger. 

My decision made. I might fail. I don’t have much confidence in me. I expected the bullet and the fall. I decided I would not shrink back. I was having a hard time getting my spiritual legs to work, but I intended to shake off the anxiety. This is about the Lord, not about me. Jesus has won these kinds of battles with many who were as fearful and awkward as I am. He has used the fearful to overcome the brave and powerful, the Israelites to defeat the overwhelmingly powerful Egyptians. He is God, and He heals.

Why would or am I concerned with saying the right prayer? The prayer of faith? Since Jesus does the work, anyone can pray, large or small, young or old, of great faith or beginning faith – anyone. Jesus even use unbelievers to accomplish the determined work of God. 

I saw one of the doubts more clearly. I was struggling with who am I instead of standing reassured in the who Jesus is. I was distracted by what others might think of me and, even, what I thought of me. I was afraid I would be hit by the killing bullet of dismay if I failed and then would turn on myself with anger and disappointment. I saw that my eyes had clearly moved away from the Lord and His patient. I had distanced myself to the desert, away from His lush gardens of hope.

I heard His call as a sweet sound, whispering a moment of intimacy in my moment of harsh isolation. “Come join me in what I am doing. I love this person. I’ve put these people here, and you, to join me in the things I plan to do for her. She is mine. Join me.” And the desert disappeared from my heart. 

The decision I made stood. I spoke in the confidence of His promise, His presence, His plan because it was more and better and more reliable than I could ever do for my friend. He is absolutely trustworthy. He had brought all of us into that prayer room because He was working on all of us. He was awakening new faith, stronger expectation. He was putting us in the battle against doubt and self so we could see Him and be glad, see Him and have hope, see Him and believe, see Him and know that He was accomplishing His work.

I was concerned with praying for my friend and seeing her healed. I was overly concerned with my own doubts and fears.

I was in a room where Jesus was healing and revealing Himself to all of us. His love and compassion is beyond comprehension. He heals the healers He calls to pray for the soul He is healing, while moving to increase healing in the congregation He is healing, all while bringing us into a closer relationship and intimacy with Him. I saw that He was silently growing my faith, which was temporarily hidden behind the doubts I was facing. Saying that Jesus is love sounds increasingly hollow after just a peek at what it really looks like in action.