As a real disciple, I feel woefully inadequate. I’m old, (well, ok, maybe not *that* old,) but I’m cranky, I’m a hermit, and my body fails me at every turn. It’s weird that it took me all these years to realize *now* what He expects me to be–now, when I’m least likely to do anything the world would call significant. I don’t get it. But I get Him. I guess for Him maybe that’s something He can work with.
I get the everyone and everywhere idea, but realistically, I’m a “specifics” woman. Show me where to plow, till, weed, and plant and I’m there. But I’m just an ordinary woman, trying to function in extra-ordinary time. So if I’m supposed to do something or be somewhere, show me! OK, so He did put up some signs, and then He nudged me to step out and “do the stuff.”
Well, I knew that idea was going to take some getting used to. I was more than willing to do what came easily to me–computers, the Internet, prayer, occasional hands-on contact, wisdom nuggets, but the notion of doing the heavy duty “healing & delivering” stuff left me trembling in my NB sneakers. What if I was just imagining this full-disciple stuff? How was it going to work? I wasn’t about to turn trying to walk the disciple road into some wacko dog-&-pony, traveling “RiverCity” gig.
First of all, I don’t like making a spectacle of myself, and I don’t trust people who do. Those celebrity healers and evangelists who conduct massive, on-command “healing revivals,” live in multi-million dollar estates, and maintain affluent, flashy lifestyles speak volumes to me of insincere, backslidden entrepreneurs who ran way, way off the integrity track spending the money for His Kingdom on themselves!
So forget the white robes and gold jewelry routine. As my father used to say about things that he disagreed with, “that’s asinine!” (Yeh, he was cranky too.) I won’t even let other folks pray over me unless they actually believe we’ve all been given the authority to heal. No wimpy, “well if it’s Your will, and if it’s possible…” sniveling “prayer” over my life! No sirreee. It’s taking time to figure all this out. But every day that goes by brings me closer to going home, so I need to get moving now!
My job helps. Every day, in the course of helping technicians with work issues, He brings me lots of folks who share life issues, look for counsel or prayer support, or irritate me into praying for them as a substitute for growling. That’s one of the Lord’s favorite tricks. (At least I think it’s the Lord!)
He brings me someone who really ticks me off–like a state trooper trying to give me a speeding ticket, or a clerk who could not find inventory with a seeing-eye dawg. And just when I go to let loose with some verbal barb, He reminds me that these are His folks, and they need His loving hand.
I add all of them to my prayer list, and every night, faithfully, I pray for them, their staff, families, and ministries, using 2 Corinthians 10:3-5. That’s a long term project. He’s never given me a name to take off the list-just folks to add to it.
Hands-on contact is the hardest step for me. I don’t know how to touch folks I don’t know without their asking me. I look for creative ways to do it covertly. There’s no way I’m going to make a scene, or raise a ruckus going around a hospital waiting room, annoying folks. So I sit there quietly, declaring healing over everyone I see. Sometimes, I get close enough to touch them, and I do, gently, on the shoulder, back, hand–sometimes even on their heads. You can get away with a lot when you’re female and old. I never could have done that when I was young–that would definitely have created some pretty embarrassing “unintended consequences.”
Sometimes He prompts me to go over to a person and pray with them. I don’t always have the courage to follow through on those calls, but I’m working on it. The point to all this discipling stuff seems to be *everyone,* *everywhere,* and all the time. So, there’s no sense to getting all worked up. I don’t even want anyone’s “official” approval, sanction, or recognition. That seems about as phony and stupid as the white dress, gold jewelry, and big estate. I have my Father’s Words–that’s enough for me. I don’t need anyone else’s approval or praise.
I just want to keep it simple. I have everything I need to do the job–two hands, two feet, some mobility, a mouth, a mind, a heart–and all His strength and support to offset my own weakness. It feels like a plan. . .