I spent the last five days at Project Searchlight, a re-entry conference type of thing for Racers who recently returned from the field. A hundred or so of us showed up to see just what God had planned for us through worship, sessions, conversations, prophecy and very silly talents.
I almost didn’t go. After debating it since month 9 of my Race, I decided not to attend the week before. But after feeling a lack of purpose and discipline, I changed my mind two days before it began.
The first couple days were great. I reunited with twenty of my squadmates, heard of an opportunity I’ve decided to pursue (and will write a blog about later), and worshipped with hundreds of alumni Racers.
Wednesday afternoon I walked into the Training Center where sessions had been held every few hours. It had a different feel to it. The chairs had been cleared out, completely opening the space. I sat down on a rug and asked my friends why we were sitting on the ground.
“Clint’s speaking,” one of them said. If it were anyone else it wouldn’t have been enough of an explanation but I didn’t ask another question. If you weren’t fortunate enough to hear Clint Bokelman speak at your training camp or PSL, or if you don’t have any idea who he is, I’m sorry. That man is a light like I’ve never seen before. I know I’ll see him sitting super close to the Lord’s throne when we get to Heaven.
Guitars began strumming and I turned my attention to the stage. Logan began sharing a testimony of healing as the smell of incense filled the room.
“Three years ago,” he began, “I hurt my wrist playing soccer with a child while I was on my Race. This morning, Ryan came up to me and told me he didn’t think the Lord wanted me to wear the wrist brace I’ve worn ever since. I took it off and he prayed for me three times,” he paused. “The pain is gone.” He twisted his wrist to show its mobility. “I’m healed,” he said. “And following my healing, three more people were healed.”
My heart was overwhelmed with love. I was one of those people.
During morning worship, the Lord laid healing heavily on my heart. I thought I was supposed to invite people into a space to receive it, though as I prayed God revealed that I was the one He was going to heal.
Five years ago I had my first shoulder surgery on my rotator cuff and labrum. Ten months later I had a second one on my bicep. I’ve never regained the strength I once had and have experienced pain ever since. Pain so bad that holding my arm up during worship was becoming harder and harder. Logan had shared the same testimony immediately following his healing and God told me to ask him to pray over me. He was fired up, declared my healing, lifted my arm and shouted in praise as I told him the pain was gone. He sealed the healing in the name of Jesus and I shared with the others what had just happened.
“Tonight, I believe the Lord wants to heal more of you,” Logan continued. “So, if you need healing of any kind, I want you to raise your hand. And those who were healed today are going to lay hands and pray for you.”
Hands were raised all around the room and prayers were sent up. As I laid hands on some I knew and others I didn’t, my faith was strengthened healing after healing. I thought back to all the times I prayed for people who didn’t receive healing throughout the last year. Thank you God, I thought, for showing me it’s real.
Ten minutes into it, Clint called up anyone who had just been healed. Two shared about the healing they received in their backs, one shared about being set free of shame, another shared about healing of her past wounds. The room was full of tears, hallelujahs and the Holy Spirit.
Clint invited up anyone who wanted freedom from believing the lie that the pain or shame we were carrying was our fault. My sister who had already been delivered prayed over all of us who crowded together near the front.
Brothers and sisters all around me were liberated. We celebrated in praise.
Clint went on to speak the identity of Christ into each of us as individuals and as a body.
“Who do you say I am?” He asked as the voice of our Father.
We shared with whoever was next to us who we think Christ is.
“Forever,” I told Gretchen. “The One thing,” she replied.
“If you know who Christ is, who do you say you are?” Clint asked.
“Pure,” I told my sister. She smiled, believing it too, as she had walked alongside me throughout my journey of finally believing my purity was restored by the Lord.
“If you know who Christ is and you know who you are, you can tell your brothers and sisters who they are,” Clint finished. All around the room, we spoke Truth into one another.
People from six different squads came together as one body and lifted high the name of our Savior, our Redeemer, our Father, our Beloved with one voice. We were unified, healed and set free.
Everyone who walked in that room walked out different. And I’ll never accept experiencing pain in my shoulder another day in my life.
If you’re not planning to go to Project Searchlight, change your mind. Stop making up excuses, go and see what Papa wants to show you. There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll be happy you decided to go. I’ll be forever grateful I did.
