A Pattern For Prayer (Part 4)
Context
Content
Intro
The Hindrances To Prayer
The Habits of Prayer
A Promise To Claim
A Process To Follow
Asking (A Desire Expressed)
Seeking (A Discovery Experience)
One day a lady called me, and she said, “Pastor, I need you to come over to my house. I’ve got a prayer burden, and I want you to pray with me.” I said, “I’ll be there.” I went to her house. I said, “What is the prayer burden?” She said, “Pastor, it is my son. He is a drunkard. I want you to pray with me for my son.” And then she said, “And his wife has just been diagnosed with cancer. My son is a drunkard. My daughter-in-law has been diagnosed with cancer. And I want you, my pastor, please, to pray with me.” I said, “I will.” She said, “I’ve asked my son to come over.” I said, “Wonderful.”
So the three of us were there. The drunkard son, the mother and grandmother, who was concerned, and the pastor. And we got down on our knees and began to pray. And she prayed, and I prayed. And then she prayed. And then I prayed again. And that boy, that man, I say, he was, oh, maybe thirty-five. He looked at me, and said, “Pray, preacher. You ain’t praying.” I thought I was praying. I thought I was doing a good job. But he said to me, “Preacher, pray! You ain’t praying.” Well, I think I got a little louder and faster. I thought maybe it had something to do with the tone or the rhythm, or maybe I needed to groan a little more, do something. I’ve never had anybody challenge me like that. He said, “You ain’t praying, preacher.”
So I prayed a little more. And then I looked up, and she was gone. The grandmother was gone. She wasn’t in the room. I thought, “Just me and this boy here, and he doesn’t think I’m praying.” And then I heard another sound in another room. And so I just stopped, since I wasn’t praying anyway, and got up and looked in that other room. And there she was, spread eagle on the carpet, her face down in the carpet. And I just paused to listen to her praying.
I heard her, I listened to her, I saw her, as she went up through the skies, pushed open the gates, walked down those golden streets, right to the throne room, right past the torn veil. I heard her walk right in and get hold of the altar. And I listened to her pray. And I heard the anguish of her heart. I heard her prayer. I heard her faith. I heard her do warfare with Satan. I heard her remind God of His promises. I heard her pour out her heart, her life, almost to death for that boy. I heard her pray. And I think maybe, perhaps sometime in the past, that boy had heard his mama pray, and that’s the reason he was saying to me, “Preacher, you ain’t praying.”