I remember the first time God spoke to me. He downloaded a word straight into my mind. There was not a voice, or sensation. For five years I had prayed, “Please give me a vision.”
I did not want rewards. I obeyed as much as possible. I tithed. I loved. I lived for Him.
In fact, I only desired to please Him more. I yearned for more of God; a closer relationship. I leaned on God as I read my Bible, worshipped Him, and attended church. Yet, I pressed in to God for more revelation from Him. So, on an outdoor balcony at a ladies retreat I asked again.
Only, this time I asked to help.
I did not request a vision. Instead, I asked for names.
Silently, in my thoughts to God I said, “Is there anybody you want me to pray for right now Lord? Please give me a name.” I waited. I listened for His word. Nothing.
Then, a thought came into my mind.
“Brady.” Somehow the typed letters came. B-r-a-d-y. Like in a book. That is what I saw in my mind’s eye.
Brady. I don’t know anyone by that name, do I?
I prayed for clarity…”God, please, I lift up Brady to you, bless him …uh, what does he need?”
I saw a baseball field in my mind’s eye this time. I looked around with my eyes open now- to the spring flowers and grass that peeked through –perhaps I had Spring Fever? Is this me?
I closed my eyes and asked, “What kind of baseball prayers can I pray, God? Does Brady have an injury?”
Heart. I saw the letters, h-e-a-r-t. Then, a cartoon image of a heart. Before I could ask what the heart meant, a band-aid covered it. “Oh, please heal Brady’s hurting heart. Thank you, for this prayer. Bless Brady. And, God, I feel really crazy-Please show me who Brady is. Amen.”
The break ended. I went inside and I seated myself in a folding chair in our small group’s circle. I smiled to a lady in our group. “Do you have children?” I asked.
“Yes. Josh and Brady. Brady plays his first baseball game today,” she said.
I froze. I wasn’t crazy.
But, my chest felt heavy. Now the hard part. I needed courage to share God’s baseball vision.
“And you couldn’t go to his first game?” I asked.
“Well,” she explained, “his dad is one of the coaches so he’s fine. Although, he is a mama’s boy.”
With an anxious feeling, I leaned towards her, “I have been asking God for a word, or a vision. During the break, He gave me a vision of baseball and the name Brady with a hurting heart. “
I gulped. I feared her reaction. She might doubt me or worse-laugh. Instead, she moved closer to me. Excited, she asked me many questions about my faith and how to pray like this. Joy peaked in my spirit.
I shared His word. God speaks.
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