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Last week we journeyed through an insider view into the Gatesville Women's Prison. If you missed last week's blog, you can read it HERE.
We ended with a young woman by the name of Missy. Theoretically, her name was Melissa but for some time, she has been incapable of pronouncing it so to help those around her, she decided to shorten the syllables.
Let me back up for a moment as I believe I'm getting a little ahead of myself.
Upon arrival of this particular pod on May 4th, the guard reminded our group we had no more than thirty-five minutes. We eagerly entered the pod knowing this would be our last set of inmates we would be able to encourage.
For the first twenty-five minutes or so, a few of us were speaking to a young woman who would be released in two weeks. She was filled with fear and uncertainty but after a few minutes, she was feeling secure and confident of her release. All of a sudden one of our prayer partners, Denise, motioned for me to get over to a table across the pod. I peeked at the clock and I knew the thirty minutes we had when we arrived, was probably down to five.
Jumping to my feet, I met the woman sitting in front of Denise. This woman's dirty blonde hair fell to her shoulders. It was strangely and stringy and I instantly noticed she was around my age but you could tell the world had not been kind to her.
"This lady needs prayer. They say she has Huntington's disease." Our lead coordinator demanded.
Without any hesitation the words, "Oh, I thought you were going to give me something hard." came flying out of my mouth. The woman chuckled as I asked her name. She fiddled with her tongue, thrusting against her gums when she stuttered, "Missy ... or Melissa".
"What's wrong with you Melissa?" I questioned.
Slowly she began gesturing and mouthing, "I can't think, I can't speak and I can't walk. "
Again, boldness poured from my mouth, "It's okay, my God can do anything. Let's start from the top."
We instantly began praying and the Holy Spirit bound up any and all thinking difficulties, all cloudiness in her mind and brain. We commanded all neurons and dendrites to function normally and correctly in Jesus' Name. Suddenly she shook her head and looked up at me. Something loosed, she knew it and so did I but we were loosing time, so we continued.
"Let's go lower, in Jesus Name, loose her tongue!" and I told her to say, "Thank you Jesus for my healing!"
She stammered, "Tank you desus fur my hearring."
I said, "Again, say it again!" And in a low, raspy voice she whispered, "Thank you Jesus for my healing."
It was quiet but it was clear.
I said, "I can't hear you Missy!" So she said it again even louder this time, "Thank you Jesus for my healing!"
I'm so sorry Missy, I didn't hear you...what did you say? "THANK YOU JESUS FOR MY HEALING!!"
Flawless. The crowd went wild. Every inmate, saved or not, mouths gaped open and they were now all on their feet.
Our team lead said, "Hey, we gotta go." and unfortunately when they say it's time to go, we have to go. But God had one thing left to do.
"By the authority of Jesus Christ, I command you to GET UP AND WALK!
I don't quite remember much after that but I do remember feeling my palm beating the metal table saying, "WALK IN JESUS NAME, GET UP AND WALK!" I looked up and Missy was RUNNING around in circles. Forget the walking, she was literally jogging around a number of her fellow inmates, balling, and praising Jesus without any speech impediments. She came back over and I held her head in my arms as she cried.
The last thing I remember is feeling someone pulling me away. Our time was up and we were being escorted out. I felt tears streaming from my eyes. I didn't get to say bye, but Missy;
Missy was my one.
You may ask, so what's the big deal? We see people get healed all the time. We know God does miracles.
You see, a little over four years ago my mom had a major stroke. Her speech was taken and so was her ability to walk. Needless to say, Missy hit home for me.
Unfortunately, my mom has been in and out of the hospital for the last six months and we have been praying for her ever since. I don't know why God hasn't decided to move this specific mountain but I know He decided to move Missy's and that is my God. When He decides it's the right time, so it is. What's more amazing is that day more hope was shed than I had ever seen before.
Though He is taking His time with my mom, my level of faith in the gift of healing increased by the thousands in less than five minutes with Missy. I know, without a shadow of a doubt He can and will heal all those who are His dear children.
Even if we don't know what it looks like, we will fervently continue to pray and fast for mom because I have seen what my God can do. He showed off a little bit a couple of Saturday's ago and He decided to use me as the voice and vessel.
This moment will not ever be forgotten and I was kindly reminded we are not called to be in fear or in shackles. We are NOT prisoners. God does not break promises, He breaks chains! Whether behind bars or not, we were bought with a hefty price tag and both YOU and I are called to be FREE!
Do you hear that?
That's the sound of chains breaking my friend.
