After only a few days in Johannesburg, we found out that our hosts would be taking us on a 10 day trip to Pietermaritzburg South Africa. At first I was frustrated… can’t we just stop moving around and settle in somewhere for more than a week? But I had no idea how life-changing those next 10 days were going to be for me.
For 10 days, we lived in an old prison. Don’t worry, there aren’t actual prisoners there anymore, but Nelson Mandela AND Gandhi have both been imprisoned there before… crazy!!! We slept in old prison cells, and although it was a little eerie at first, the Lord spoke to me so clearly through our circumstances.
This week the Lord told me that He had healing in store for me from something that has held me back for as long as I can remember: anxiety. He actually spoke to me during our devotional time on one of our first days at the prison, and basically laid it on my heart that I haven’t even asked Him for healing from it yet. A scripture that has been on my heart lately is Matthew 7:7-11 (the same message is also found in Luke 11:9-13), where Jesus tells us that everyone asks receives, the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. The Father does NOT withhold His gifts from us. Jeremiah 29:13 also tells us that when we seek the Lord with all of our hearts, we WILL find Him. So that’s exactly what I decided to do. During one of our first nights at the prison, we decided to have a worship night out in the hallway of the cell block. A place that used to be filled with such darkness was flooded with light through our songs and praise. And that night, I laid it all down at the feet of Jesus. In fact, I literally laid face down on that dirty old wood floor and boldly prayed that He would take all of my anxiety away. I can NOT let this affect any more of this race, or any more of my life. When I sat up a few minutes later, the doubts came in… “what if nothing happens?” But then another thought came that overpowered those doubts: “what if something does?”
One of my teammates Colby walked up and started praying over me, and I almost asked her to pray healing over me. But then I felt the Lord telling me that I was going to ask everyone in that hallway to do that. I thought to myself “oh no, anything but that,” because that means I have to speak out to everyone in that hallway, my team, the men’s team, our squad leader, and our hosts, that I was struggling. But as soon as the music stopped, I spit it out. I asked for prayer, and just as it normally goes when that question is asked, everyone sprang up and surrounded me to pray. And for some reason I felt zero doubt about what was about to happen. I literally thought to myself, “oh my gosh He’s really gonna do it isn’t He?”
When everyone finished praying, one of our hosts said that he felt the Lord say “your faith has healed you.”
And that’s when we all realized, standing in a circle in that prison hallway… that the Lord was SO incredibly intentional in bringing us to live in this prison. He picked the perfect time (and place) to show me that anxiety has been my “prison,” and that He is going to tear down those prison walls and help me break free. He made it so clear He wanted to do something big here. I prayed that night that I wouldn’t be skeptical that He could heal me right then and there. And that was HARD. It was so hard for me to grasp that Jesus has the power to take away something that has been around for years and years. All week I prayed over myself to believe that my faith has healed me. And wow was the week something special.
Our entire ministry week here in Pietermaritzburg was nothing short of amazing. We put on church services (church in Africa lasts about 3 hours!!), we prayed over gogos (old women) in a nursing home, and we stood on street corners in squatter camps and played music until children gathered to hear the Word of God. We led 15 school assemblies, allowing us to share Jesus with thousands of kids from tons of different communities. I never thought I’d be standing in front of a sea of people sharing my story and what Jesus has done for me, but I’m learning to expect the unexpected 🙂
Outside of our typical ministry hours, we grew closer to one another and made living in a prison the most fun thing I’ve ever done. We worshipped in the bathrooms and old staircases to hear the strums of the guitar echoing off the walls. We skateboarded down the hallways, sometimes laying on our stomachs. We made some bomb home-cooked meals in the prison kitchen. We played hide and seek at night, and let’s just say the partly burnt down insane asylum was not off limits… terrifying but so fun. We ate way too much peanut butter. We did the boys’ eyebrows by the lights of our iPhones. We laughed until we cried. We danced in the rain and hail, saw a beautiful rainbow, and danced some more. This place that at first seemed so scary and dark became a place of laughter and light. A place I honestly will never forget.
God moved in ways I didn’t expect Him to this week. He has never spoken to me as much (or as clearly) as He did this week. I’ve never felt so close to Him.
On our last night in the prison, after packing up everything in my cell, I sat on the floor with my journal and started writing a letter. Somehow thoughts spilled onto paper and I ended up with this:
Dear Anxiety,
It’s been quite a long run with you. I can’t remember a time in my life when you weren’t there. But this is the end of the road. You have no place here. You have no right to tear me down anymore. Never again will I let you control my decisions or ruin my days. It’s time for me to walk in full freedom with the Father. YOU have been my prison, and tomorrow when I walk out of this cell and let the door lock behind me, you are NOT coming with me. You are NOT following me back to Johannesburg. You’re staying right here locked in this cell, and you will never touch me again. I know a God that is so much greater than you, and He has broken my chains. It’s time for you to go.
I stared down at what I wrote, prayed that in Jesus’ name anxiety would NOT follow me out of this cell.
I left that prison a different person. At 4:00am this morning, I walked out of my cell, literally slammed my door behind me (world’s best feeling), and walked away from the thing that has always held me back more than anything else. I trust that if anxiety ever tries to creep in again, I will be reminded of where I left it, locked in that prison cell where it belongs.
