Majesty: a passion story
I have hesitated about writing about my time at Passion. Hard to know how much to keep private and I also don't want to seem like I'm saying "look how God used me!" But I think this story glorifies God and I can tell it without giving away details about the person involved and preserving their privacy.
I haven't been to Passion in three years, and I knew this year the attendance had tripled since I was there last. I had heard the leaders say it wasn't about numbers, that they believed God would meet with each individual. I believed that too and it shaped my prayers leading up to going to Atlanta.
As an intercessor, you are excited about what God is going to say to you at a moment in time like Passion. There is an expectancy that He will speak and show you how to pray. That isn't always the case.
One of the first things we do as intercessors is prayerwalk the area that Passion is taking place in. In this case it was the Georgia dome, a humongous place. Our fearless leader gave us oil and said to anoint as many seats as possible. I did that some, but really felt I wasn't listening to God and really wanted to know how to pray for Passion. So I asked him. He said, "Suicide." I sort of didn't believe - okay I didn't believe he was saying that. I've been known to be dramatic. So I walked some more and just took in the enormity of the dome. I asked him again, and he said, "suicide." I thought to myself, well, I'm sure in a group this size someone has thought of it. You can see I still wasn't really believing the Lord was speaking to me. But I did pray. I told my leader of my small prayer group as we were leaving the dome, "Not to be dramatic but I keep hearing the word suicide."
The first night our group was assigned to be in the dome with the students. I couldn't believe how many were there. You just don't get over what God is doing with this generation easily. I just wanted to stare at them. It was impressed on my heart that they have seen so much, are carrying battle scars, but that their hearts are for Him. I watched them lift their hands and my heart cried for them, but also so proud of them.
Fast forward to the second night of Passion. Our group leader asked us to watch the evening session from our rooms or in the ballroom with a simulcast viewing, because we had to be up at 3 a.m. for our next prayer time. My roommate and I went to the ballroom with the intention of watching, but soon realized for whatever reason it wasn't being shown. We looked at each other and I said, "let's go to the dome. We can at least hear the message and then leave before the students." You really didn't want to get caught in the small city of movement the students were when they went from one place to another at the same time. You had to wait a good 30 to 45 minutes to get around them, holding doors as you went, taking in their joy. And they had joy. They know victory as well as they know pain. There was joy for them to be in a place of light for a few days while most of them live in a world surrounded by darkness.
My roommate and I went to the dome and sat as high as you possibly could, not wanting to take away any seats from the students. Francis Chan spoke that night on trusting the promises in the Word of God. Then for whatever reason, most likely that Chan hears from the Lord LOUDLY and clearly, he addressed suicide for a few minutes. That he wasn't saying definitively that it leads to eternal damnation, but if you are trying to escape pain here, you may be leading yourself into eternal pain. He also mentioned suicide is not an option for hurting others.
As he began to speak, I thought I was going to jump out of my skin. I really wanted to leave. But I honestly feared I would fall down the stairs if I left. My head was spinning. The fear of the Lord was so strong in that place and it was too much for me. Too much that the Lord had spoken to me about suicide and I had all but blown Him off. You know that feeling when God gets really real to you? Not just that He is present, because He always is, but that you are keenly aware of him. That was me in that moment.
During our early morning prayer time, suicide and mental illness became one of our focuses. I felt able to pray in authority about such topics, as the Lord has overcome them in my own life. So I did. I didn't feel led to share my own story with the group, but to pray. The next morning I was a mess. I couldn't stop crying and didn't think I could go on, I felt waves of depression hitting hard. I started texting people who were praying for me while I was at Passion...I didn't care that I sounded desperate and that it was all about me. "Please pray, I'm really struggling with depression, please pray."
The attack ended as quickly as it began. The power of prayer. Thank you friends, you know who you are. If any of us thinks we can stand in victory on our own without community, then we are just really wrong.
During our group's last prayer time in the intercession room, we prayed through prayer cards from the student prayer journey Kneel. Our leader Tracy picked up one card and I thought she was going to cry - unusual for our joyful leader. The card specifically dealt with suicide and how close the writer had come to taking their own life. It ended with thanking Louie and Francis for saving their life. They also addressed the sin that led to hopelessness. Pornography.
I can't tell you how much I hate pornography and it's effect on our lives. No words. Personally, corporately, nationally, globally. I tried to pray but just cried. Then I got angry. I remember the last time I prayed so passionately about this subject. It was at another Passion in Nashville. I was praying with young men and women in my group, praying through the Message in 1 Corinthians about using our God tools to take every thought captive. We were weeping and claiming and begging. And chains broke, I do believe. I don't remember a lot from all the different times I've prayed with people, but this is in the top five. We couldn't get up off the floor, he was so with us.
Why does the Lord move when we pray? God would have talked through Francis about suicide without me praying, I'm sure of it. It was important to Him. But He chose to include me. To let me hear Francis. To read that prayer card. To stand in the dome and pray for one person.
And for that I'm so grateful.
Your prayers matter. Don't ever think they don't. The Lord wants to involve you in His story, His healing. Let him be glorified through you.
We use our powerful God-tools for smashing warped philosophies, tearing down barriers erected against the truth of God, fitting every loose thought and emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ. 2 Corinthians 10, from the Message.
I haven't been to Passion in three years, and I knew this year the attendance had tripled since I was there last. I had heard the leaders say it wasn't about numbers, that they believed God would meet with each individual. I believed that too and it shaped my prayers leading up to going to Atlanta.
As an intercessor, you are excited about what God is going to say to you at a moment in time like Passion. There is an expectancy that He will speak and show you how to pray. That isn't always the case.
One of the first things we do as intercessors is prayerwalk the area that Passion is taking place in. In this case it was the Georgia dome, a humongous place. Our fearless leader gave us oil and said to anoint as many seats as possible. I did that some, but really felt I wasn't listening to God and really wanted to know how to pray for Passion. So I asked him. He said, "Suicide." I sort of didn't believe - okay I didn't believe he was saying that. I've been known to be dramatic. So I walked some more and just took in the enormity of the dome. I asked him again, and he said, "suicide." I thought to myself, well, I'm sure in a group this size someone has thought of it. You can see I still wasn't really believing the Lord was speaking to me. But I did pray. I told my leader of my small prayer group as we were leaving the dome, "Not to be dramatic but I keep hearing the word suicide."
The first night our group was assigned to be in the dome with the students. I couldn't believe how many were there. You just don't get over what God is doing with this generation easily. I just wanted to stare at them. It was impressed on my heart that they have seen so much, are carrying battle scars, but that their hearts are for Him. I watched them lift their hands and my heart cried for them, but also so proud of them.
Fast forward to the second night of Passion. Our group leader asked us to watch the evening session from our rooms or in the ballroom with a simulcast viewing, because we had to be up at 3 a.m. for our next prayer time. My roommate and I went to the ballroom with the intention of watching, but soon realized for whatever reason it wasn't being shown. We looked at each other and I said, "let's go to the dome. We can at least hear the message and then leave before the students." You really didn't want to get caught in the small city of movement the students were when they went from one place to another at the same time. You had to wait a good 30 to 45 minutes to get around them, holding doors as you went, taking in their joy. And they had joy. They know victory as well as they know pain. There was joy for them to be in a place of light for a few days while most of them live in a world surrounded by darkness.
My roommate and I went to the dome and sat as high as you possibly could, not wanting to take away any seats from the students. Francis Chan spoke that night on trusting the promises in the Word of God. Then for whatever reason, most likely that Chan hears from the Lord LOUDLY and clearly, he addressed suicide for a few minutes. That he wasn't saying definitively that it leads to eternal damnation, but if you are trying to escape pain here, you may be leading yourself into eternal pain. He also mentioned suicide is not an option for hurting others.
As he began to speak, I thought I was going to jump out of my skin. I really wanted to leave. But I honestly feared I would fall down the stairs if I left. My head was spinning. The fear of the Lord was so strong in that place and it was too much for me. Too much that the Lord had spoken to me about suicide and I had all but blown Him off. You know that feeling when God gets really real to you? Not just that He is present, because He always is, but that you are keenly aware of him. That was me in that moment.
During our early morning prayer time, suicide and mental illness became one of our focuses. I felt able to pray in authority about such topics, as the Lord has overcome them in my own life. So I did. I didn't feel led to share my own story with the group, but to pray. The next morning I was a mess. I couldn't stop crying and didn't think I could go on, I felt waves of depression hitting hard. I started texting people who were praying for me while I was at Passion...I didn't care that I sounded desperate and that it was all about me. "Please pray, I'm really struggling with depression, please pray."
The attack ended as quickly as it began. The power of prayer. Thank you friends, you know who you are. If any of us thinks we can stand in victory on our own without community, then we are just really wrong.
During our group's last prayer time in the intercession room, we prayed through prayer cards from the student prayer journey Kneel. Our leader Tracy picked up one card and I thought she was going to cry - unusual for our joyful leader. The card specifically dealt with suicide and how close the writer had come to taking their own life. It ended with thanking Louie and Francis for saving their life. They also addressed the sin that led to hopelessness. Pornography.
I can't tell you how much I hate pornography and it's effect on our lives. No words. Personally, corporately, nationally, globally. I tried to pray but just cried. Then I got angry. I remember the last time I prayed so passionately about this subject. It was at another Passion in Nashville. I was praying with young men and women in my group, praying through the Message in 1 Corinthians about using our God tools to take every thought captive. We were weeping and claiming and begging. And chains broke, I do believe. I don't remember a lot from all the different times I've prayed with people, but this is in the top five. We couldn't get up off the floor, he was so with us.
Why does the Lord move when we pray? God would have talked through Francis about suicide without me praying, I'm sure of it. It was important to Him. But He chose to include me. To let me hear Francis. To read that prayer card. To stand in the dome and pray for one person.
And for that I'm so grateful.
Your prayers matter. Don't ever think they don't. The Lord wants to involve you in His story, His healing. Let him be glorified through you.
We use our powerful God-tools for smashing warped philosophies, tearing down barriers erected against the truth of God, fitting every loose thought and emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ. 2 Corinthians 10, from the Message.