The Blessing and Power of Praying Friends

Last week, I posted a very simple statement to my social media site.  "Please pray for me.  Thank you."  I gave no details, no explanation, just typed the request and went on about carrying out the responsibility to which I'd agreed.  As I went about my work, I checked in from time to time and clicked "like" in acknowledgement of the comments, and ultimately gave a bit more information.

The issue was addressed in People of the Preservation, and even though I know that I know, the power was in The Word of YHWH; intercession before the throne by His saints, made a huge difference.  I'm not talking superstition or feelings here, but knowing someone is praying for you, is definitely a reality!  I'm frequently asked to pray for someone and I do that, knowing full well it isn't my words, but YHWH's power that makes the difference, yet He does bless our obedience.  That promise is repeated throughout His Word.

When a person in need or pain seeks an intercessor, they are in obedience.  Messiah said, where two touch in agreement . . . He also said to ask in His Name . . . and James tells us if any are sick, go before the elders.  The book of Acts is filled with mighty acts of the Apostles by the power of the Holy Spirit.

I knew He would hear my prayer and answer it, but at the time I received the news, I certainly didn't know how.  When I typed that simple statement, not only was I blessed, I was humbled and I am sure all those who responded and prayed were blessed for their compassionate obedience as well, or will be.  In reading the responses to my request, I found myself praying a prayer of thanksgiving for each of them.  As I write this, the old southern gospel song is playing in my head, "Will the Circle Be Unbroken."

To be able to stand before a room full of teary eyed images of masculinity and stoicism and fulfill the wishes of the departed to bring laughter in celebration of her life, was nothing short of a miracle for me.  Although I was glad for Aunt Nina, my heart was breaking for her children, grandchildren, and the rest of us who will miss her greatly.  Knowing I'll never, in this life again, hear her say, "I love you," is a very sad fact for me; and even in acknowledging that in the service, not a tear fell from the eyes of this speaker.  That was her final wish and she'd put it in writing.

The victory in that accomplishment can only be attributed to the power of our Creator, through his Son who bore our grief.  

I pray the blessing I received that was truly powerful and overwhelming will be showered upon all those who interceded for me and spend time in their prayer closet interceding for others.  Amein.

An Awesome Blessing

As I got out of the van Wednesday, I smelled gasoline.  I mentioned it to Mr. B and went on to unload our newest residents here in Goshen, Cheese and Quackers, two ducks from a summer camp.  As it turns out, this gasoline issue is a factory fuel pump problem, which was noted on a recall letter 2 years ago . . .  I got Cheese and  Quackers unloaded and unpenned, then sat down to hear the dreaded news from Mr. B.  He likes dreading life, so I was prepared . . . As it turns out, if a problem develops, all those who have purchased this vehicle are to call the dealership from which the purchase was made.

Thankfully, the dealership of our purchase was allowed to remain in business after the Bail-out, close downs, "cash for clunkers," and downsizing of the Big 3.  As a matter of fact, both the Chrysler and Ford dealerships now sit empty on the opposite corners of the intersection.  Auto manufacturers do not seem to have the same "job security" as Big Pharma . . . yet I digress.  So a quick call was made, and the voice on the other end said bring it in first thing in the morning and DO NOT drive it in the mean time!  With that word of warning, Mr. B shared with me a story of a leaking fuel line that went up in flames rather quickly.  Since it wasn't yet in the carport, I believed it to be wise to park it well away from the house, the tabernacle, and the critters.  A puddle of gasoline had already formed.

The Uplander is still in the shop as I write this Friday morning, but HalleluYah, it made it to the shop without incident.  There is a loaner out front, and the dealership thinks it will be done before closing tonight.  Now, here's where the blessings just poured down and added up!

I met the people with the ducks, Wednesday, about 70 miles from here, then meandered through Carthage, taking the scenic route home with a stop at Braum's.  I had left that morning about 10:30 and arrived home about 3:00.  This dilemma with the Uplander did not happen all those miles from home!  Glory to our Heavenly Father!  I don't have a cell phone and pay phones have all but disappeared; so when I travel, it is a matter of faith.  Something that morning that weighed heavily on me, was the fact that the morning had not gone in the usual manner, and I hadn't spent my usual time in devotions . . . It weighed heavily as I was rushing around to make the meeting time.  I hadn't completely ignored Abba, it was just the morning had little extra distractions . . .  He kept me!   It certainly wasn't based upon my devotion ritual, but His banner.

Since the letter of the recall was two years old and the vehicle itself is a 2008 with 70,000 miles; I wasn't sure how the repair and/or replacement would go.  There is no charge on this part or labor.  Big HalleluYah!
This is not a situation in which I'm saying, "It could have been so much worse . . . although it certainly could have been!"  This is a situation in which "stuff" does happen, and I know that I know, my steps were ordered by Adonai and I was protected.

An Unexpected Blessing

In practical preparation, I'm still stumbling a bit when it comes to the goat herd.  I get a bit sentimental and go with my emotions rather than spirit and intellect, and that doesn't go well.  Last fall I purchased a nice young doe.  I knew she'd kidded probably once, maybe twice at the most, so no more than a three year old.  I bought her for her color and her ears.  The fact that she was mixed breed was obvious, so I knew I was already one generation ahead on the Jacob's herd.  She was a bit on the wild side, as in I couldn't touch her, but I just knew she was one for Goshen.  All of the goats here, don't have to be milkers, some just produce future milkers.  Knowing Buddy was getting to that ornery point all bucks come to, he was going to be leaving, but I liked his bloodlines.  Actually, I was planning to breed her to Buddy, in hopes of a buckling for a herd sire, but Abba had a different plan.

As it turns out, she was already bred when I bought her.  She kidded before she'd been here five months, which is the gestation period for goats.  The early arrival has resulted in a blessing beyond what I had hoped.  First, it was not a buckling, but an unrelated doeling with the ears I'm aiming for!   My big Oberhasli doe had a fine buck, as did one of my Nubians, so Buddy's bloodline shall remain in the herd.  With the new goat, Cherie, kidding an unrelated doeling this means the herd, if I remain obedient, is two years ahead of being on the way to a Jacob's herd.  If course, the first kid will belong to YHWH, but what a blessing to have such young blood in the herd now.  And there is more . . .

Cherie began eating out of my hand after she became a mom, but was still skiddish.  Knowing I was keeping her doeling, Tamar, I left Tamar on Cherie without even attempting to separate them to milk.  Since the mama had never been milked, I was hesitant to separate them, as I didn't want any health problems if the mama was uncooperative.  Here's where it gets interesting.  When I separated them, Cherie went back to being untouchable.  I understand that!  After all, I had taken her baby.  So catching her to make sure her udder stayed healthy was quite a task.  So much of a task, I considered putting her kid back on her.  I got a lead on her, finally.  We dragged each other to the milking parlor.  That is no exaggeration!  When I was ahead, she was digging in her heels and then she'd sprint forward and I'd be trying to keep up.  I coaxed/bribed/cajoled, and even lifted her onto the stanchion.  With great expectation of a real raucous, I grabbed the bucket and sat down, planning my strategy.

Her udder was tight, and her teats are short, but that goat never flinched, never offered to kick, nothing!  She stood there nuzzling my neck and ear while I milked her.  She was treating me like her kid.  All that hoop-ti-la in the pasture and then a perfect milker.  She has actually started calling me at milking time and although I still use a lead, she walks right in, takes care of business and walks back out.  I think this is what Abba meant when He said to "prepare practically!"