On the first night of a conference I couldn’t help but notice a young lady sitting on the front row glaring at me. After the message, I was talking to some folks when another young lady asked, Can you help my friend? She is sitting on the front row and can’t get up! I walked over to the one who was glaring at me and said, Let me encourage you to just relax where you are. You will be able to get up in a few minutes. Ten minutes later she approached me with a request for some personal time.
I found out that she was a psychiatric nurse and was driving 120 miles one way in order to attend the conference. I was able to arrange housing for the rest of the week so she wouldn’t have to drive so far. We met Tuesday afternoon with the counseling pastor sitting in as a prayer partner. The inquirer told me that she had driven by a gun shop every day for the last three weeks and fought off the temptation to buy a gun, bring it to the conference, and shoot me! Obviously that idea was from the enemy, since I didn’t even know the young lady.
At the end of the conference she handed me a big, neatly gift wrapped package. Inside was an electronic foot washer. Just fill it with water, turn it on, and enjoy. There was a note that said, You washed my feet. Let me wash yours.
In another conference I had finished speaking Sunday evening and a lot of people hung around to ask questions. I was dog tired and wanting to go home when someone said, We need a prayer warrior outside. That would be me I guess! I was led to a parked car. A lady was sitting in the passenger side of the front seat. As I poked my head in the door she lunged at me with her right hand, ripping off the pocket of my shirt. I walked right into it, and I should have known better.
She was assigned by my associate to meet with someone who was not yet properly trained to deal with hard cases. After the failed attempt to help her, she walked up to my associate and said, I’m going to kill you. No you’re not, he said and took her for a walk while explaining the battle in her mind, and why she didn’t have to believe the lies and intimidations. She was a Jamaican lady who taught first grade in a nearby public school. At the end of the conference she gave me a big hug, and presented me with a present, which was a very nice shirt.
For Spanish, see http://www.ficmm.org/blog