A lot of what we do depends on prayer.
Take that back. Everything we do depends on prayer.
We try to make it a habit to make sure that our ministries, our contacts and our teams are covered in prayer each month.
As part of our ministry, we do prayer walks where we walk the streets of the city we’re living in (Antalya, Turkey) and do nothing but fight in prayer on behalf of the city and its inhabitants.
Last night as I lay in bed thinking about the rainy prayer walk we’d just been on, I wondered to myself why I never did it back home. I used to love to sit at the Starbucks on the Riverwalk and people watch. (This time of year is definitely the best time with all the Christmas lights…sigh…I miss you Riverwalk during Christmas.)
But I guess I just never thought about it. I feel like that’s part of me that’s changing. I now get the urge to pray for people even when they don’t know it.
On our first prayer walk through Antalya, Matt and I were walking and I saw this woman who I just KNEW was a believer in Jesus. Just a side note–believers are rare. Like, REALLY rare here. And I started praying hard for her. For her protection, for her family, for her relationship with her Savior. It was a strange feeling that I’d never felt before. That knowing that the Spirit was leading in that moment. It was a great feeling.
Matt and I kept walking around the block of where our contacts live and we decided to sit on the curb for a second while his iPod played some praise and worship music. We sat there listening and praying out loud when we felt led to. A few minutes later I turned to my right and got the urge to walk to the mosque down the road when Matt interrupted the music by saying, “Let’s go to the mosque.”
I hit him and squealed because that’s what I do when people say what I’m thinking. Sorry Matt.
But it, too, was a great feeling to know that the Spirit was at work.
Then today as I was sitting on a bus I saw a Muslim woman standing at the front and because she caught my attention, I just stared at her. (Yup, still a people watcher.) She then sat down on the seat next to me and I realized, “Hey, I should pray for her.” So as the cold rain fell outside and the inside of the windows fogged up, I did.
As I was praying for her, I prayed something along the lines of “God, I pray that you allow her to see clearly…” and I was interrupted by her reaching across and wiping the foggy window clean so she could see clearly.
As I looked at her wide-eyed, we arrived at our stop. I got up, trying to scoot past her when she told me something in Turkish with a smile. I smiled back and said, “English?” and she laughed, shook her head, patted me on the back, and helped me out.
And I have full faith that if she can’t already, that she will one day be able to see Him clearly.
