Chapter 17 - Not This Church

Filled with an insatiable love for the Lord and gratitude for the friendship of the Holy Spirit, I began praying for two hours every day: a new home, a new life, a new intensity of prayer, surely all things would be made new. Even though I had given up alcohol, knowing it alienated me from the Lord because it grieved Him, John continued to drink. Yet he appeared to be making strides. When it came to the church or things of God, John seemed to be in the flow. One day, a friend sent me a certain minister’s cassette tape. I said, “John, you’ve got to hear this! I want to order every tape this Kenneth Copeland has made.”

John said, “Go ahead. Order them.” I thought a couple dozen tapes might arrive, but a truck backed up to our driveway in the cul-de-sac and the driver had to use a dolly to deliver them into the foyer. I listened to them, over 900 of them (!), over and over. So did John!

John said, “Go ahead. Order them.” I thought a couple dozen tapes might arrive, but a truck backed up to our driveway in the cul-de-sac and the driver had to use a dolly to deliver them into the foyer. I listened to them, over 900 of them (!), over and over. So did John!
The Lord had led us to join a Lutheran Church. When visiting any other of the big churches in Walnut Creek, I prayed, “Please, Lord, let this be our church!” But the answer was always “No.” In this church the median age was seventy-two, with only one other child in the membership. My prayer was “Please, Lord, not this church!” But I felt inside myself a fluffy feeling saying “Yes, this is the one I’ve chosen for you.”

John did volunteer work there, and I plunged into working as a volunteer, too. When I started a children’s choir, families came out of the woodwork, and the median age dropped. Every day I arrived at Pastor Scott’s door saying, “What can I do?” If he didn’t have a job for me, I swept the driveway, or worked in the garden, or visited the folks in the nursing home. The Lord told me, during my prayer times, the subject and even some of the sentences of the Pastor’s sermon for the coming Sunday, which drove him crazy. But he must have made a recommendation, as the Council invited me to become a member.

Pastor Scott and I decided to hold Healing Services on Wednesday nights. He put an ad in the paper and announced it at church, but the first Wednesday, I could not bring myself to go. John wouldn’t go with me. He wasn’t against it; he just didn’t want to hear about it. As I headed out the door, John made some comment about pretending. I didn’t know what he meant. His resistance confused me and made me feel I shouldn’t go. I drove past the church several times and finally, thirty minutes late, parked and went inside.

The place was packed! We never had such a crowd. Pastor Scott had just finished the sermon, and when he saw me, immense relief filled his eyes. He immediately called me forward, he gave me one half of the sanctuary, and he took the other. He invited the people to come for prayer one at a time to either himself or to me, and we laid hands on them and prayed.

We saw miracles happen! I prayed for a woman with severe Scoliosis, laying my hands on her spine and I heard cracking in her back as her backbone slowly straightened. The Lord seemed to work on backs through my hands. A woman confined to a wheelchair came every Wednesday and we prayed fervently each time. After a few months, she pushed her wheelchair down the aisle, and after a few more months, she came forward requiring no aid. I felt so privileged to play this new role.