Thursday, October 20, 2016
Prayer And Healing
.......The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results.
The one area that I feel that I lack in is prayer.
Oh, I pray....And I believe....
But there is a voice inside me, that tells me I did not do enough, or I did not pray correctly. I know this voice is not from God. I know this voice all too well, as it is my flesh. My flesh is never satisfied when I am going about God's business. My flesh is never quiet when I am moving under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. It rises us and tries to cast doubt and fear into the mix. So rather than give it a place, I turn to prayer. I turn to meditation and focusing my thoughts on Christ. I picture the cross, the very giving of Himself for me. I try to see in my mind the body of Christ hanging on that wood.
I look to his feet....those feet that took the gospel through out the region. Feet that carried the message and power of God to people who were trapped in the darkness of sin. Feet that entered the houses and homes of people who were considered to be rejects and outcasts by the religious system of the day. But those wonderful feet of Christ took Him to those who needed Him most. But what I see as I look to the cross, is feet that are battered and bruised. Violent colors of yellow and purple amidst the swelling and bleeding. Feet that are still, not moving.
I see His hands.....those hands that reached out and touched a leper with healing. Hands that took a simple meal of fish and bread, and fed the masses. 5,000 plus on one occasion, and 4,000 plus on another. Taking up the bread, those hands blessed the meal and the very nature of atomic molecular structure of that meal was altered. That which we look too as logic was blown out of the water by the divine. Those hands....
On the cross, those hands are nailed to the cross beam. They are still....no movement...
Then too are bruised and blooded. Knuckles swollen to twice their size, are curled up in a fist. Not because of anger against the ones who carried out the crucifixion, but because these hands surrendered to the will of His Father. Now death has curled them and warped them.
I look to His eyes.... Those eyes that were filled with compassion. Eyes that were weighed down by the pain He saw in others. Eyes that flamed when He saw the level that religion would take some. Those who would turn His father's house into a place of money and greed. Eyes that saw the desecration of the Temple, moved from table to table to overturn the wickedness He saw. Eyes that would light up when He saw the joy and release of one who was healed. A leper.....A cripple....a woman with an issue of blood...a dead daughter....these eyes saw the Father's power bring life back to the dead. But now...
Now those eyes are dark and dull. They look akin to a dolls eyes...they no longer see.
But praise God, the story doesn't end here. In my mediation, I am transported to an early morning. Night mist is lifting from the ground, as the first rays of the morning sun began to sleepily rise above the horizon. I am in a graveyard. But something has happened. There is a tomb, but not no one there. The entrance has been ripped open and if you look inside, you will see......................................nothing. You will see no one. For the one who hung on the cross has risen from the dead. He is no longer the bruised, battered carpenter's son from Nazareth. No! He is now the rise, glorified Son of God. He has shed the constraints and bonds of this earth to move in power and presence of His Father. And He lives forever more seated at the right hand of His Father, having been given the title of LORD!!
It is because of this man...this Son of God...
It is because of who He is that I pray.
He is my intercessor to the Father.
All things are possible through prayer. When my heart is brought in live with His heart, nothing is impossible.
Such is why I am asking for prayer this morning.
We've had a lady coming to our meeting for some time. Her name is Docress King, and yesterday she went to the hospital. She was told that there was a mass on her brain, and that she is being moved to UAB to be treated. Now I know that when you say the word "Tumor" and you attach it to the location of being in the brain, the flesh has a way of automatically pronouncing a death sentence. Well not here, and not today. And certainly not over this woman.
I want you to join me in prayer for her healing.
I want you to pray for God's power to bring healing to her brain.
"In the name and power of Jesus, We speak to that tumor and say "leave her body".
We speak the healing of Jesus to here body this morning."
In the name of our Savior.......Jesus Christ. Amen.
God on you...
Dec. 14th..... Early morning at the Bynum house. Christmas tree is lit.... House is quiet. Not time for Vicki to get up yet. Today at...