I sat on the couch, peered around the room, and immediately began mentally reviewing what was left on my agenda for the day: team prayer meeting, homework with the kids, cleaning the commons room, dinner prep, and dinner. My head swam and my heart sunk, overwhelmed. I didn’t have the hours I needed to do everything in time.

The prayer meeting began. Words fell on my ears, unabsorbed. My heart was disinterested. How could I intercede for Europe when I couldn’t even grasp the rest of my schedule for the day? I tapped my foot, distracted.

For thirty minutes I listened to accounts and testimonies that should have stirred my soul for intercession, but all I could mentally respond with was, “I’m already familiar with this story,” “I knew that already,” and “That’s cool.” My nonchalance should have probably sparked a red flag, but I ignored it. As my friend shared about the passion and dedication of martyrs of the faith and the importance of intercession, impatience arose in my mind with cries of, “Let’s just pray already.”

I knew my heart posture and attitude weren’t correct, but to be honest I really didn’t care. This prayer meeting was on the schedule, so I needed to be here to check it off so I could figure out how to get through the rest of my day.

It’s so strange: six months ago I was sitting in my neighbor’s house, pouring out my desire to be surrounded by people who were also passionate about prayer. At that time it seemed that all of the church at home lacked the thirst and hunger for God’s presence, for His Spirit, for communication and communion with the King of kings. I couldn’t understand it or relate, and my heart had been thrashing inside of me. All I wanted was to be surrounded by a people of prayer, a people after God’s own heart.

Now I sat surrounded by nine of those exact people I prayed for. And where was my heart? Shut down. Locked up. Muted. Dead.

Prayer began and I listened. My brothers and sisters were speaking in tongues and crying out to our God earnestly. I sat in silence. For the first ten or so minutes, I felt like there was a brick wall in the room and I was sitting on one side of it, alone. I felt oppressed in my spirit, but I lacked the strength or comprehension to voice it.

After a little while, my friend leading intercession stopped and encouraged us to speak with God individually. Could she feel my hesitancy? Was my emptiness that noticeable?

Right away everyone else started talking with God on their own and pleading to have a heart like His, to be aligned with His passions, to be made into the image of Jesus. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. I took a deep breath and tried again; still, nothing. Exasperated, I slumped down.

I opened my mouth and said the only thing that would come to mind: I don’t know.

I could feel something there, so I said it again: I don’t know, God. I don’t have words. I don’t know.

Those were the only words I could muster up to the Creator of the universe. I waited, feeling drastically muted. Nothing else came. I felt blind and deaf.

Then, all of a sudden, it felt as though my spirit burst through an invisible pile of chains and shouted, “I’M FAILING!”

Tears started streaming down my face as something shifted spiritually. Finally the words started pouring out of my spirit, speaking on my behalf to my Father.

“I feel like I’m failing, God! I feel weak! I’m overwhelmed!”

He let me continue on and on, finally giving voice to the suppressed anguish I had felt for the past several days. As my tears poured out, the burden I felt became lighter.

I vented to Him: nothing was going according to plan. I was disappointing the people I love. Schedules weren’t working out right. I couldn’t be in two places at once. I was exhausted. I couldn’t keep up.

After letting me pour out my heart, God asked me to move into a physical posture of worship, so I adjusted the way I was sitting and lifted my hands. “You taught me before that worship is warfare, so I will worship you,” I silently confessed before my Lord. I began feebly lifting up His name and praising His goodness and declaring His worthiness.

From the outside it just looked like I was sitting on a couch crying, but on the inside God was shifting my perspective and healing my emotions, fixing my gaze on the Problem Solver rather than the problem. That’s what worship will do to ya. He washed me with the peace and comfort of His steady presence. Finally, His fullness replaced my emptiness, and His hope and contentment replaced my distress and frailty.

After He ministered to me personally for a few moments, I realized intercession had been continuing all around me. My friends were lifting up prayers God was planting in their hearts. Their bold words of faith were aligning with things He was whispering to me, comforting me with.

All of a sudden my friend started praying that God would give us testimonies so that we would be prepared to share when our team travels to evangelize. For some reason, that prayer struck a chord with me. It startled me awake, in a sense, as God blessed me with the spirit of revelation.

In that moment I realized that my current testimony is that God is a giver of peace and rest to the weary and heavy-laden; His yoke is easy, His burden is light. I only know that testimony because He allowed me to feel overwhelming unrest.

If everything had gone smoothly and as planned all week, I wouldn’t have been desperately yearning for the peace and rest that only He provides. But now, I have a testimony. When I walk into a church or when we are on the streets or when I go to the grocery store, I have a testimony to share: whatever burden is weighing you down, God can lift it from your shoulders and provide you with the peace and rest you’re craving. Hallelujah.

The stress I endured to get to this testimony was so worth building this testimony. In my last blog post I shared about how weak I have been feeling, and praise God for my weakness because without it I wouldn’t be as familiar with His abundant strength.

Though, God took this conversation a step further. He asked me a question I hope I don’t soon forget:

How much are you willing to endure to bring a testimony to My children?

A lot of my friends and family are feeling broken because of miscellaneous life circumstances, and I have been torn inwardly because I don’t like for my loved ones to hurt. It sucks. I can’t do anything to heal my best friend’s heart.

This obstacle has created a conflict in my heart because so often the “gospel” message preached says, “God only wants good things for your life – for you to be happy and prosper and always have good health and money always.” To be quite frank, that’s BS. It’s untrue, it’s false, it’s bologna, it’s wrong. 

Yes, Romans 8:28 says that God works all things for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. What that means, though, is that no matter what happens in life, it will be good for you. It will teach you. It will sanctify you. It will test and purify you. Those things will ultimately work out for your good, because you’ll look like Jesus in the end.

What that scripture doesn’t mean is that God’s going to make sure you always have over $1000 in the bank, or that everything will happen the way you want it to, or that the person you fall in love with will love you back, or that your spouse will always choose to be faithful to you, or that you will outlive your children, or that you won’t get cancer.

God is concerned with our holiness. His goal is to conform us to the image of Jesus Christ. Living a pampered life doesn’t quite escort us to that end goal.

I watched Black Panther last night and God gave me this brilliant analogy. The main character, T’Challa, becomes initiated as King of Wakanda. During his initiation ceremony, the question posed is, “Does anybody want to challenge the king for his throne?” Spoiler alert: one guy does challenge him. Everybody gets super bummed because obviously this is a great day and things are going smoothly and why would this dude come ruin this special day??? Anyway, God spoke to me during the fight scene and said, “An easy life does not create a skilled warrior.” He’s so wise, y’all.

God is calling His sons and daughters to be warriors! Intercessors, missionaries, and evangelists are on the front lines. We are called to be revivalists, and that requires sacrifice and it comes with a cost. A hefty cost. Warfare isn’t sunshine and daisies and a nice little hobbit hole! Warfare is trekking and being hungry and cold and stabbing (spiritual) orcs on the way to Smaug.

So back to the question God asked me during the prayer meeting: how much are you willing to endure to bring a testimony to My children?

Am I willing to experience loneliness so that I can testify to other lonely sons and daughters that God’s presence is enough?

Am I willing to risk having my heart broken so that I can stand beside the truth that God is the healer of broken hearts?

Am I willing to open my heart to people who might abandon or reject me so that, if they do, I can still confidently say that God is my unending source of joy, love, and acceptance?

Am I willing to be a missionary and rely solely on God’s provision so that I can preach from experience that He is and always will be Jehovah Jireh who meets all my needs?

Am I willing to tell God to have His way in me? Can I earnestly pray for Him to use me? to spend my life? Is the goal of my life to bring God glory and to know His goodness and to share His goodness with His sons and daughters?

These are questions Holy Spirit is asking. What’s my answer going to be? What’s yours?

Well, if I claim to be a Christian, then I’m saying Jesus is Lord of my life. Am I going to let Him be Lord? Or am I on the throne of my own heart?

I know these are big questions that probably step on some toes. And I know that you don’t necessarily have to go through something in order to share about God. But, friend, let me tell you. Paul was totally willing to become all things to all men. He understood the value of sacrificing comfort and getting on the same level as others politically, financially, physically, or however was needed. He was sold out to bring in souls. I want to be the same way.

So, Jesus, I don’t mind having a stressful schedule to better understand Your rest. It’s totally worth experiencing anxiety to contrast floating in Your pool of peace. You are worth every pain and trial I have faced and will face. We will overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony.

So, soldiers of Christ out there, pick up your swords. You are fighting for the truth. You are fighting for the sons and daughters of the King. You are fighting for the testimony that will bring others into deliverance. You are fighting a spiritual battle that belongs to God. Allow God to build your testimony and then punch the enemy in the face for messing with you in the first place. Get payback for what He has stolen. Figure out the testimony God has allowed you to gain, and shout it from the rooftops: He is good! He is enough! He is what every soul is searching for!