A Call to Healing
The first week of April we were blessed to be joined by a team of roughly 30 students of the Bethel Ministry School. During their school visit, a small group came into my 2nd grade classroom to pray and prophesy with my kids. For those of you who may not know, we spend much of our lives here in Jubilee living out prophesy and walking in the spirit - so I knew that my kids would have had the experiences needed to somewhat prepare them for this type of prayer and ministry.
Working as the teacher and translator, I was so impressed watching the team explain to my kids why we pray to hear from God, and how powerful it can be when we believe in the authority He has given us. We practiced praying together in a way that invited the spirit into our classroom and asked God to speak words of wisdom to us. One by one, my littles stepped forward to the chair placed in the center of the classroom, and were showered by prophetic words of God's love for them - words that this team could not possibly know - words that left my kids in awe. Watching their faces light up as their childlike faith became tangible would have been more than enough that day, but then God decided to do even more.
As Jamesley, my 2nd grader who is known to make me laugh and always ready to break out in dance, sat in the chair, a team member asked if his Mother was sick. He replied it wasn't his mother, but his aunt was in the hospital, pregnant and very sick. It was then prophesied over James that he was given the authority to heal his Aunt, and he would grow to be a gifted healer for God. As I'm translating, I'm getting increasingly more nervous about how James is receiving all of this, when the team asks if they can show him how to pray a healing prayer. With only slight hesitation, James steps up to me to pray for the migraine I'd had all afternoon. I was nervous, the kind of nerves a Momma has when her little one is stepping out of their comfort zone and you so badly want to shield them from any disappointment. But all of that was quickly forgotten because the second he touched his hand to my head, the headache was gone. Completely, miraculously, gone. Tears welled in my eyes as I continued to translate the prayer for James into Creole, and the class cheered him on when they heard my headache was gone. They supported and encouraged him to pray over his Aunt after school, and the energy in the classroom that day, the childlike faith, the immensity of God's spirit, it filled our school. Of all my days in Haiti, this is one I will never forget.
Working as the teacher and translator, I was so impressed watching the team explain to my kids why we pray to hear from God, and how powerful it can be when we believe in the authority He has given us. We practiced praying together in a way that invited the spirit into our classroom and asked God to speak words of wisdom to us. One by one, my littles stepped forward to the chair placed in the center of the classroom, and were showered by prophetic words of God's love for them - words that this team could not possibly know - words that left my kids in awe. Watching their faces light up as their childlike faith became tangible would have been more than enough that day, but then God decided to do even more.As Jamesley, my 2nd grader who is known to make me laugh and always ready to break out in dance, sat in the chair, a team member asked if his Mother was sick. He replied it wasn't his mother, but his aunt was in the hospital, pregnant and very sick. It was then prophesied over James that he was given the authority to heal his Aunt, and he would grow to be a gifted healer for God. As I'm translating, I'm getting increasingly more nervous about how James is receiving all of this, when the team asks if they can show him how to pray a healing prayer. With only slight hesitation, James steps up to me to pray for the migraine I'd had all afternoon. I was nervous, the kind of nerves a Momma has when her little one is stepping out of their comfort zone and you so badly want to shield them from any disappointment. But all of that was quickly forgotten because the second he touched his hand to my head, the headache was gone. Completely, miraculously, gone. Tears welled in my eyes as I continued to translate the prayer for James into Creole, and the class cheered him on when they heard my headache was gone. They supported and encouraged him to pray over his Aunt after school, and the energy in the classroom that day, the childlike faith, the immensity of God's spirit, it filled our school. Of all my days in Haiti, this is one I will never forget.
