Impregnated Pause

The email came so unexpectedly, "Tara, we will you to lead one of the morning devotions." "Yes, thank you." Excited, but also nervous at one more opportunity to share Jesus. I awoke the morning after the invite at 4:00 am with a start. "Story the seven moments Jesus prayed. Challenge ION attendees to pray like My Son." "Okay. it makes sense to me since that is what I am studying and writing about now." The LORD has caused me to meditate on these seven moments now for about a year. I stopped all aspects of my ministry and only focused on this one endeavor; painstakingly choosing the words, telling, re-telling and re-crafting the story. For two entire weeks all I did was listen to, read or tell the story. I timed and re-timed the presentation. It took 19-23 minutes with most of the times resting at 21. Coinciding with the preparation time at ION (International Orality Network), I began the fall session of women's Bible study at my church. One of the action plans in our study focused on an eight week fast of asking God for anything. I walked a fast of asking. I was not allowed to ask GOD all the things that I might ask, "O LORD, please do not let any words fall empty to the ground. Make my teaching like the dew that ministers to the tender shoot..." However, I was re-learning a process of only praising the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Obviously, He become my WORD Giver, Presenter, Speaker, Spokesmen. Two days before I presented, I remained secluded all morning in order to practice. As the stories unfolded from my lips, the power of GOD's message sent shivers through me. Finally, the story became mine. I left my room with a buoyed step knowing that God was up to something. But, then something happened! On the day before I presented, I could not tell one sentence without confusion. "What is this? Why can't I remember the story? Deliverer!" As the day progressed the confusion increased, passages that I knew well and could tell so easily, suddenly became foreign as if I sought to muddle through what felt like a Greek text. "Father, You make all things clear! You give to us the words we need in our time of need. You tell us to go and tell." I asked my friend if I might share the story with her in order to ease my mind. Yet, the confusion increased. I could not even speak the first sentence without messing up. I couldn't even muster up anxiety. "Sustainer, I do not want to fail you or the ones I seek to honor." My sweet friend even seemed frozen as I tried several times to tell without messing up. As I storied the thought came to me, "ASK and it will be given." "But, I am fasting asking. I know YOU will provide! I trust YOUR character and YOUR WORD! You know what is best and You know my heart. I simply want to tell the story so people will pray like Jesus prayed." At dinner, I shared with Jan and Nancy that I was struggling. I asked them to pray. On the night before the presentation the LORD awoke me at midnight, so I storied. Sweetly, it rolled off my heart and mind like a comforting friend. Sleep peacefully overtook me. "Thank YOU, Father." On the day of the presentation, I progressed through my morning routine knowing that the Holy Spirit would be faithful to complete what the Father began. I skipped breakfast in order to draw nearer to the Father. Yet, as I entered the sanctuary, a spirit of confusion confounded me. As worship progressed, several moments of shear panic overtook me. "What is the story? How do I tell it? What were the points I hoped to communicate?" I could not recall so many details. It was gone. My mind was blank. "Glory, YOU reign! All over the world YOUR glory resounds! Jesus is our victory." As Jerry, our emcee introduced me, he asked me to share about myself when I came up. With clarity I heard in my heart, "Do not introduce yourself! This is not about you. Just tell the story!" I stood to tell and felt the story begin its process of unfolding from the depths of my soul. AND then it happened. It was gone! NOTHING! GONE! I told myself, "Pause, don't say a word! Just pause!" I did. Still nothing. "What was I to say? Where was I?" It even occurred to me that I needed to pause in order to teach how to mess up. A thousand thoughts, but dead silence filled room. The familiarity of the story no longer lulling experienced Bible tellers to distraction. A PAUSE! The impregnated pause gave me time to look out at the people. Heads were bowed. Eyes squinted shut... praying. And I couldn't even pull out of myself a prayer. I couldn't find it. Only by the grace of God my mouth opened and the story began again. Not where it was supposed to, but the comfort of its familiarity sent obvious relief to the group, but I could tell some were still praying. As I storied, I let the pause go because there was not time to dwell on such things. My secondary thoughts kept shouting, "Tell! I must tell!" AND then it happened again, but this time with greater confusion. The Spirit warned, "No! That is a woe not a blessing." I messed up and as much as I tried I could not tell the difference between a blessing and woe. Was I living a blessing or a woe at the moment? I did not know! Once again, the pause gave me opportunity to see the bowed heads and squinted eyes of prayer. Love and comfort oozed into my soul, "Tell, Tara. Tell!" Humbled, I finished the story. The incredible sting of shame covered me as I thought, "They trusted me! But, LORD, even in this YOU can glorify YOUR SON!" The room was quiet and sober. No one, really knew how to respond. One of our own failed today. This could be me some day. Rick immediately rose and came to give me a hug. His hug felt like my earthly daddy's arms and I felt safe, secure and loved. As I left the sanctuary, the spirit of condemnation wanted to sweep me away. I knew in my heart I needed to go to the prayer room so I could have someone help me to lift my head and make sense of the situation. All things happen for a purpose with the children of God. Who am I say what God intended? The prayer room was filled with dialogue about spreading the gospel and how to tell the story as well as dialogue about personal griefs that I had not right to interrupt. I sat and listened. Again, that impregnated silence. I confess I felt so selfish that I felt so desperate for prayer. I left to go to the next conference and as I walked into the room Nancy, the speaker, washed me with public encouragement as only Nancy can. And that is when the dialogue began. "Why LORD!" I know I am not to ask GOD for anything. Somehow this felt right because I did not want something for me by way of a gift. I wanted clarity and understanding. His gentle reminder came, "Was it not your heart for people of ION to pray?" "Yes, LORD. We can't do this apart from YOU!" "What did the people look like when you could not tell?" "They were bowed in prayer!" Ha! Really?! "But, LORD, that is not what I meant!" But, I laughed inside! God showed me the humor of my situation and my burden lifted some for the people did pray. There were many good conversations about the impregnated pause, yet all I could think about was how I might grow and improve. While safely home enveloped in deep sleep beside my beloved, I awoke with another start. Instantly this thought came to me, "Did you notice the two moments you messed up on?" "Yes, Beth helped me remember. I forgot to say, 'Don't think you can say your are Abraham's children. For, I tell you that God can take one of these stones and make children for Abraham.' And, 'Blessed are those who go hungry now for they will be satisfied." "Think on these two!" "Well, it might be easy for one of us to become so religious that we think that by some form of tradition, practice or method that we have it made." As shivers coursed over my body, I sat stunned as I thought of how we at ION can allow these three to destroy the story! O GOD, forgive us... no, forgive me! Immediately, my mind remembered faces of those that are starved for Jesus. And I remembered, "Satisfaction will come!" Finally, peace came upon me. No story is complete for me until I pen it. My literacy breaking through to bring relief to what will be a spiritual marker in my life on the importance of prayer. I do not write it to shame anyone. I write it as a note of remembrance and ask that it be used often as we train. In this, God will redeem that which was not spoken. Father, could it be that the enemy did not want these two particular statements not spoken? Or is it that YOU just wanted us to reflect further on these two? O LORD, whatever the reason. I am ever so thankful because I will never forget! The impregnated pause is a spiritual reminder that I will not quickly forget. Please teach us to pray like Jesus prayed. Tara Rye 4:32 am 9/16/11