Tag Archives: floor map

Tunisia, Italy, and the Dark Waters

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Malta sits in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea.  From this vantage point, we have been appointed to pray for the nations surrounding the Mediterranean.  I was drawn to pray for Tunisia, and was surprised to read on the prayer sheet that Tunisia had served as the launching point for taking Islam into Northern Africa.

While praying for Tunisia, specifically among other things that it would serve as a launching point for taking Christ into Northern Africa and beyond, into all the Islamic world.  Then as I prayed I looked at the floor map and noticed that Tunisia is shaped like a keyhole.  So I prayed for Tunisia to open the door to bring Christ into the Islamic world.

As I prayed more, I noticed also that Tunisia looks like the blade of a knife, cutting between Algeria and Libya.  So I prayed that Tunisia would cut, dividing Islamic Northern Africa, breaking the Islamic hold in that region of the world.

Then as I heard the worship music, I began to dance on the floor map of Tunisia.  In dancing, I finally felt that familiar shift in the spirit that tells me that my prayers have been heard.  And looking at Tunisia again, I noticed that from the southern point of Tunisia (the knife blade); it looks like a big crack running between Algeria and Libya.  Yes, a big crack!  Hallelujah!  Crack the hard nut of Islamic North Africa!

Our host, Dave, shared this morning the vision he had had of a lighthouse on Malta, but instead of a light bulb, there was a flame.  And as it shined, it sent sparks that set little fires blazing all around the Mediterranean.  I had a similar vision of a lighthouse, setting off sparks as it shined its light.  In both cases, we understood the vision to mean revival.

Malta is a strategic place, sitting as it does, in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea.  Another vision that Dave had was of a great light entering the Mediterranean Sea at the Straits of Gibraltar, and crossing the sea (moving west), via the island stepping stones of Malta and Cyprus; finally arriving in Israel.  So again on the floor map we prayed and danced on the stepping stones: Gibraltar to Malta to Cyprus to Israel.

On a personal note, Dave shared a health concern about his newborn daughter.  He and Sharon (our hosts) were told that she has a rare disorder in which 2 facial nerves are missing, which makes her unable to nurse, show facial expression, or control her eyes.  Dave researched the condition and found that worldwide there are only about 3000 cases, none of which has ever been cured.  We prayed for little Bonnie, that God would do a creative miracle, putting the missing nerves in the place where they should be.  We also declared that this creative miracle would show the doctors who the Great Physician is, and turn their heart to the only One who can truly heal body, soul, and spirit.

As the night approached, I decided to go outside my comfort zone.  I signed up to do the first overnight shift of our 2 weeks of continuous prayer and worship in the MRPC (Mediterranean Regional Prayer Center).  I am not a night person, and when my pillow calls, I have a very hard time resisting its siren song.  But I had a cup of coffee at 10PM and went for it.  Since the last bus back to the house leaves at 10, I was committed at that point.

Three of us stayed all night: Karl, the team leader; Molly, and me.  A guitar player and a few local Maltese worshipers stayed for a while to help us get properly launched.  We started in joyous worship, singing, dancing, and playing tambourines and bongos.  Then we moved to more meditative worship and prayer.  The Maltese had mostly gone by midnight, but the guitar player, Herbie, stayed.  At 2AM we decided to go prayer walking.  We locked up the Prayer Center and headed into the cool, still night.  Lights twinkled off the water as we sought an open gate to the park overlooking the harbor.  All the gates were locked, so we walked around the park and down to the harbor.  On the way we passed a sleepy guard outside the Italian Embassy, and greeting him warmly.  Of course, he looked at us as if we were crazy.

At the harbor we found the gate to the passenger ferry open, so we went in to sit on the bench there and pray while looking at the black night water as it played with the full moon’s reflection.  The Transform teams from all the other countries had sent us prayer requests, so as Karl read each team’s prayer requests we took turns leading the prayer for them.  It made me feel a real partnership with each team as they seek to take the Good News of Jesus into each of their countries in a variety of ways: Bible giveaways, puppetry, dance, street evangelism, etc.

When he came to Italy, Karl gave me the task of leading prayer for my chosen home country.  The leader of this Italian team (there are 3 Italian teams in all) is a friend I’ve known and prayed for since practically the beginning of my time as a missionary in 2010.  Giuseppe does clowning as a way of sharing Jesus.  As I began to pray for him and his team, I could picture Giuseppe’s bright smile and imagine the laughter he brings with both his clown act and his message of real hope.

For those who are not intercessors or who have never tried praying for people in ministry, it can start out feeling like a burden, but soon becomes a pleasure, and a sweet burden.  The best part is when you get reports back of how God has answered your prayers on behalf of the person you’re praying for.  For me, praying for Giuseppe was the highlight of the night, although those prayers for the country of Tunisia were also pretty amazing.

Then as we finished up the requests for prayer, we decided to move on.  Herbie said good night to us there and made his way back to where he had parked his car.  We went to the top of a hill overlooking the harbor and watched a pilot boat and tug boat assist a big ferry through the harbor entrance and into port.  It was surprising the speed that the big ferry was moving as it entered the harbor.  The ferry made big waves that noisily splashed the rocks below us in a rhythm that reminded me of hands clapping.  Karl had taught us back in Rome about the power of rhythmic handclapping and drumming as a prayer tool (see Bingo Bango Bongo!).  I couldn’t stop smiling.

We continued our prayer walk into the center of Valletta and up to the Parliament Building.  As we passed in front of St. John’s cathedral, it chimed the half hour: 3:30AM.  The bell was very loud and startled us.  At the Parliament Building, I felt the urge to go put my hand on the door as we prayed.  I knew that there were probably security cameras trained on the door, but decided to go for it anyway.  I was not chased away, but almost as soon as I had returned to the others, a jeep drove up and let out a guard who entered the building through the door that I had just touched.  It was probably the night shift taking over.  They saw us, but took no particular notice, since we were just sitting on a bench.

As we passed in front of the cathedral again, it chimed the hour: 4AM.  Even though Karl warned us that it was coming, the loudness of the bell still startled us because it chimed exactly at the moment that we were passing in front of the bell tower.

When we returned to the Prayer Center Karl put on worship music.  He chose wonderful songs, but not very lively.  I grabbed a tambourine to keep myself awake, but found that my sleepy hands just couldn’t keep a rhythm.  So I switched to the bongos, which felt better for a while.  But while thumping them I felt myself slipping off into sleep.  Molly later commented about how I had drummed in my sleep.  Finally, I settled on an egg-shaker.  I stood on the map of Malta, singing and shaking.

Finally it was 6AM, and the buses would be starting soon.  Karl dismissed us, telling us that he would wait for the morning team and probably catch a nap upstairs when they arrived to take over.

On the way home, my sleep-deprived brain was terrified of missing our stop, so when I saw an area that looked familiar I ringed and we got off—probably 5 stops too soon.  Molly was a very good sport about it.  We both knew that the enemy would try to use that mistake to set us against each other, so we remained determined to stay united in love—and really, Molly gets all the credit for that, since it was my mistake.

God is good!  Even when we blunder and cause problems for each other, God is always good!

The Whole Inheritance

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Greetings from Rome!

I am here at Transform 2013, an outreach program of OM.  At the airport while waiting for the bus to the conference, I stopped at a coffee shop for an after-lunch espresso, as is my habit.  Next to me at the coffee bar was a friendly woman.  She smiled and spoke to me in English.  It turned out that she was also headed to Transform.  We hit it off in an instant friendship.  But Monica and I had no idea at the time just how compatible we were.

Transform in Rome is to prepare missionaries for short-term missions in the countries around the Mediterranean.  “Where are you going after the conference?” Monica asked me.  This would become one of the 2 most common questions to strike up conversation at the conference.  The other being, “Where did you come from?”  I told her that I’m from Texas, living in Milan, Italy, and going to Malta after the conference.  Her smile widened and she said, “Me too!”  Both our jaws dropped open.  Right on cue, the bus arrived and took us to the conference.  Monica and I rode together, each glad to have found a traveling companion.

When I arrived in Rome, I was already going on 2 nights in a row of only 4 hours sleep.  Monday night (or technically, Tuesday morning) I awoke at 2AM with a migraine attack beginning.  The enemy frequently tries to prevent me from going or from being effective on missions trips by attacking me with migraines.  But the Lord said to get on my feet and fight.  So I stood there in the dark room, rebuking the enemy silently so as not to awake my 3 roommates.  The migraine immediately went away and I was able to get back to sleep, but had a 3rd night of only about 4 hours sleep.  Something would have to break.  The next night (yesterday morning) I woke up again at 2 and simply couldn’t get back to sleep.  It wasn’t that my mind was busy, I just laid there feeling my breath going in and out, and not sleeping.  About 11 that morning, I was considering going to the room to see if I could sleep through lunch.

But my morning prayer partner suggested that I pray with someone who knows about generational curses.  She suggested this because I had opened up and told her about my concerns for my son, who had written on Facebook that he hadn’t been happy in a year, and had asked the question, “Why should I go on living?”  I noted that it was about a year ago that his grandfather (my former father-in-law) had committed suicide.  The person she led me to was Monica.

I told Monica about my son and father-in-law, and also that 4 months later, I also lost a close family friend to suicide.  She said that there is a spirit of suicide and a spirit of death that are generational spirits.  That means that they tend to cling to a person’s family, encouraging death among family members.  I had already broken other such curses off my family, but not specifically suicide or death.  I told her that in the last year that I lived with my husband, I suffered thoughts of suicide all day long, day-in and day-out.  And that finally, when I left him, I was literally running for my life—not because of physical danger from him, but because of the danger that I might, in a moment of weakness, act upon those thoughts because of how intolerable life had become for me.  One day I did come close, but instead called 911 and was referred to the County Mental Health Clinic, where I was given a prescription for an anti-depressant.

Monica took me to her room, laid hands on me and prayed for me, breaking the spirit of suicide and death.  She prayed for the healing of my memories and other things that I don’t remember.  What I do remember is that her hands smelled very nice and felt soothing on my skin.  When I commented on the fragrance of her hands she showed me a little vial of Frankincense.  It has a lovely smell!  It’s really very soothing.

After Monica’s prayer, I felt my energy return.  I did take a nap, but not until after lunch, and only for about 45 minutes.  Last night I slept very well, getting about 8 hours—6 in a row!—thank You, Lord!

Today almost everyone has gone into the city of Rome on outreach, taking many paperback Gospels of John in Italian, 3000 dvd’s of the Jesus film to give away, and thousands of tracts to hand out.  I decided to stay behind, knowing that without a nap, I could never last a whole day into the evening, walking around Rome.  On Fridays I pray for Italy from 3-4 in the afternoon.  So I went to the prayer room, with their big floor map of the Mediterranean countries.  I knelt down on Italy and prayed and wept over it.  Then I stretched out over Italy, my heart right over Tuscany.  For a long time I had no words to pray, just mute longing for the salvation of the people of Italy, and my heart beating over Tuscany.

Then I lifted up my head and saw the words printed on the corner of the map: “Ask Me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession,” (Psalm 2:8).  It was 3 years ago, just before I went to Transform 2010, that I received a prophecy, saying (in part): “You will not just receive the blessing, but the whole inheritance.”  So I stood to my feet and began to ask for the nations as my inheritance, and to claim the whole inheritance.  As brokenhearted as I had earlier felt for Italy, I began to feel confident that God will indeed bless and save the people of Italy—no matter what their background.

Then I remembered a prophecy I received a few days ago, but read this morning: “When your faith is in what you want Me to do for you instead just wanting Me, it is misplaced,” (emphasis mine).  Yes, my faith is in God Almighty, and He alone is the hope for Italy.  God, who helped me yesterday when I was in trouble, can help Italy, too!  God is good!