**************************
Two different women from completely different walks of life contacted me within days of each other. The first sent me two different emails and in each one, she encouraged me to pray for the Archangel Michael's protection. This confused me - as there isn't much that i do understand about angels - and so i wrote her back and told her that yes, i would surely be praying for God's protection.
But then, the second woman - one that i really love and respect wrote me the following email:
"I am reminded of this passage in Daniel, where it talks about the struggle in the spiritual world and how the Archangel Michael comes to intervene.
Keep going, keep trusting, finish well because God is going with you."
And then she cut and pasted the entire 10th chapter of Daniel...
And i decided then... that despite my discomfort - i would pray in a different way; one that made me uncomfortable and uncertain.
It took me three days to gather up the courage to actually pray. i was embarrassed by the idea of saying words - forming a prayer - about something that i didn't really understand. During those three days, i prayed about other things, i talked *about* prayer, i read my bible and mulled over the idea of protection - but finally amidst the hubbub that is my house on any given day, i threw my dish towel on the kitchen counter and asked my daughters to hold down the fort - that mama needed 15 minutes to herself.
Slowly, crimson cheeked, i climbed the stairs. Locking myself in my room, i sat down on my bed and checked my phone for messages before finally throwing it down on my bedspread muttering, "Enough, Paige. Do it already... "
Flushed, mouth dry and feeling foolish and wordless in my very own locked bedroom, i knelt - because i do that sometimes... and i held my palms out just the tiniest bit... because it's how i'm most comfortable when i come to my Father... and then i blurted out something like, "God? i have no idea how angels work... and i feel stupid asking, 'cause it seems like such a crazy thing to say out loud, but do you think that you could send Archangel Michael to protect me?"
And then i started to cry.
i wasn't expecting to - as most of my thoughts were pretty shallow in those moments leading up to my pathetic little prayer...
But i cried and cried and cried as if a little dam had just burst.
My prayer continued and flowed like a river after the first spring thaw - all muddy and impatient and cleansing and raw... And He met me.
What a funny thing - that small change in posture brought... A reluctant willingness to make myself foolish allowed a brokenness and an acknowledgement of my Papa's goodness that could have happened no other way.
And when my time was up, i gathered myself up off the ground, wiped my tears and went down to my little ones. No angel appeared in flaming glory, no life-changing epiphany, no bright lights or rolling thunder...
But i learned - yet again - that if i am willing to humble myself - my Papa is so faithful to meet with me, to gently lead me... and He wants me to ask for His protection - knowing i'll find comfort there.
"Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." - 1 peter 5:6&7
And then she cut and pasted the entire 10th chapter of Daniel...
And i decided then... that despite my discomfort - i would pray in a different way; one that made me uncomfortable and uncertain.
It took me three days to gather up the courage to actually pray. i was embarrassed by the idea of saying words - forming a prayer - about something that i didn't really understand. During those three days, i prayed about other things, i talked *about* prayer, i read my bible and mulled over the idea of protection - but finally amidst the hubbub that is my house on any given day, i threw my dish towel on the kitchen counter and asked my daughters to hold down the fort - that mama needed 15 minutes to herself.
Slowly, crimson cheeked, i climbed the stairs. Locking myself in my room, i sat down on my bed and checked my phone for messages before finally throwing it down on my bedspread muttering, "Enough, Paige. Do it already... "
Flushed, mouth dry and feeling foolish and wordless in my very own locked bedroom, i knelt - because i do that sometimes... and i held my palms out just the tiniest bit... because it's how i'm most comfortable when i come to my Father... and then i blurted out something like, "God? i have no idea how angels work... and i feel stupid asking, 'cause it seems like such a crazy thing to say out loud, but do you think that you could send Archangel Michael to protect me?"
And then i started to cry.
i wasn't expecting to - as most of my thoughts were pretty shallow in those moments leading up to my pathetic little prayer...
But i cried and cried and cried as if a little dam had just burst.
My prayer continued and flowed like a river after the first spring thaw - all muddy and impatient and cleansing and raw... And He met me.
What a funny thing - that small change in posture brought... A reluctant willingness to make myself foolish allowed a brokenness and an acknowledgement of my Papa's goodness that could have happened no other way.
And when my time was up, i gathered myself up off the ground, wiped my tears and went down to my little ones. No angel appeared in flaming glory, no life-changing epiphany, no bright lights or rolling thunder...
But i learned - yet again - that if i am willing to humble myself - my Papa is so faithful to meet with me, to gently lead me... and He wants me to ask for His protection - knowing i'll find comfort there.
"Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." - 1 peter 5:6&7
No comments:
Post a Comment