For years I had “suffered” from stomach problems. When I become overly or chronically stressed, I have a very specific place on my right side just below my ribcage that feels like I’m being stabbed by an ice pick. This pain had been treated as an ulcer. But I had a physical where the Doctor wanted to check me for Crohn’s disease. (After further exams I was “diagnosed” with “Irritable Bowl Syndrome” which sounds really gross, but doesn’t require surgery. Plus it has allowed me to say to people. “Hey, hey, hey…its not ‘me’ that’s irritable. It’s my bowel.”)
Months before Julie’s death, I had gone to a new Doctor for a routine exam. That was when he dropped the “Crohn’s” term on me. Like I usually do, I ignored him and didn’t go back. I had not had a single episode for months, but after Julie’s death, I wondered if I was the subject of a Voodoo curse. It felt like a knife had been plunged into my side and was being twisted.
New Life was hosting a guest speaker, Jack Taylor. Jack was a known charismatic speaker who taught, wrote books and prayed for people. Sometimes the freaky “manifestation” stuff happed. We knew this would be a regional draw and not just for our congregation so we were preparing. The worship band had been rehearsing intently for the weeks prior to Jack. There was a great anticipation that God was going to move. Jack’s first night at New Life was the Friday after the Monday Julie died.
The worship band and families got together for a meal the evening before the Jack Weekend. I hadn’t talked about anything that had happened at school. I just couldn’t. I was so heavy and I felt paralyzed to some extent. So I went to the rehearsals and played and sang like always. But Rick wanted to pray together as a band just to get us focused. So there we were, me sitting on the floor in the far corner of Rick’s living room.
Rick began to pray for each of the band members by name, praying protection and a blessing. Then he got to me. “Lord, I pray for Chris….” A cry spilled from Rick and he began to sob. I don’t remember what he said. I just remember him crying with grief.
The next night the church building was packed. We played the worship set and the people were going nuts. After we played Jack got up to preach and I stood near the back. I can’t remember anything he said. It was enjoyable. He was definitely a gifted orator. Then it was time to pray for people. I didn’t go back up to play the invitation song. They really didn’t need me to. I put it out there to the Lord, “I’m not going to go down front unless you call me by name out loud.” (Arrogant. I know. But God’s not intimidated or put off by my weak arrogance.)
Jack began calling groups of people forward:
JACK: If you need to be saved tonight, come over to the right side of the stage.
ME: That’s not me.
JACK: If you are dealing with addiction, come over here.
ME: Again, not me.
JACK: If you need to feel the touch of the Lord, come over here.
ME: Not specific enough.
JACK: If you need physical healing
ME: No dice.
JACK: If you are dealing with loss, come over here
ME: Close, but no cigar, Jack.
Then he seemed to be done. He was walking to the steps on stage right when he hesitated for a moment. Then he looked up and said with somewhat of a frown on his face, “If you have a pain in you side right here (then he points to the exact spot as mine on his own side) and it’s like Crohn’s disease, come over here.” That was even more specific than actually calling my name. So I went forward.
I was met by one of our prayer team leaders, Randy Nichols. I started to explain what was going on, but he “shushed’ me. So I just stood there. He didn’t say anything and neither did I.
What happened next is hard to describe. It felt like a wave washed down on me. My eyes spilled tears. But still I stood there. Then another wave and another and another. Finally my knees buckled and I went to the floor. I just lay there, weeping. In that time there the Lord communicated to me some things. He said, “I feel you. I know. I know what is happening in you. But there are people at your school who are hurting as well and you are their leader. You can’t stay paralyzed with grief any longer. So I’m going to lift it from you so you can do what I want you to do.” When I got up the heaviness was gone, as was the pain in my side.
I still cried at the funeral and cried with staff the following weeks. I cried over the phone with a former teacher who had moved to another school in another town. (I’ve cried about five times while sitting here writing this blog about it.) But I was not “stricken” as I had been. From that time on, I never looked down on the “fallers,” even the serial “fallers.” I actually understood it. It was a great, affirming feeling. It was a tangible encounter with the intangible.
My take away was that (again) I can do nothing. Nothing. My flesh can produce short term, weak results that end up as chaff. For eternal results you must draw from the Father of eternity. The Ancient of Days.
chris
To learn more about Jack Taylor: Jack Taylor
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