Rushing Wind

Today there was an air of expectancy in the room as Mr. Ludy came up and opened with prayer. The solemnity of his manner, the great hush that fell over the room, portended the move of God that was to come.


He said only a few words. He read Ezekiel 37:1-14 (the vision of the valley of dry bones) and a couple of other Scriptures.

Even as he spoke, it was as if a flame kindled within me and started my heart on fire. I knew the presence of the living God was in our midst. I knew God was going to do great things.

Then he played a recording of a Keith Green song called Rushing Wind. It played, and we collectively fell on our faces before God. The song ended, and we continued prostrate before God. No one got up to speak or interrupted the move of God.

We wept. We sobbed openly. I was on the floor, kneeling with my face bent to the ground, and I was literally shaking, tears flowing freely, as God dealt with my heart and I prayed. God was reaching deep within me for something that had been a part of me for many years: fear of man. Fear, debilitating fear, that had kept me from witnessing on the metro in Madrid, that had kept me from witnessing over and over and over again on different occasions in the past, that had paralyzed me and hindered me from fulfilling God's purpose in my life. 

And God spoke to me. "I want you to say a prayer aloud," He said. 

And I started arguing. "Do you really want me to do that? What if that's inappropriate? How am I supposed to do that? What am I going to do?" 

I realized that triumph in this one occasion would symbolize the triumph over fear that God wanted to offer me for the rest of my life. Fear of what people will think, fear of saying the wrong thing or being inappropriate or being rejected, fear of following my own way, of making up my own idea of what God wanted me to do, fear of opening up my mouth to speak.

I was willing to do it, but I when it came to actually praying out loud, I found myself shuddering with the violence of my flesh's effort NOT to comply with God's command. I was still bent double on my knees on the floor, and I trembled, my hands clutched at the floor, my fists clenched and unclenched, and my eyes squeezed out the hot tears. I knew I must obey. And somehow, finally, after all this time, after many, many opportunities God's mercy had shown me, I opened up my mouth to speak.

"Oh Lord, I make that my prayer. Send your mighty rushing wind among us. My soul looks to You, Lord."

That was all I said.

That was all I had to do.

And oh, the peace that flooded my soul. A tremendous calm took over. I knew that God had dealt definitively with this long-existent troublemaker.

Again there was no session. We prayed, testified, wept, and confessed for the rest of the morning.

But I feel that the best is yet to come. This was a little manifestation of God's power and presence, but one day, soon, I expect that God is going to do an even mightier work among us. I am praying for the Spirit of God to fall with even greater power in our midst, to change lives and set us free and literally alter the course of the world through the difference that these men and women will make as they go from here.