Kansas City Chronicles - Day 3

Day 3 of my trip to the heartland of America. Day 1 in my actual destination: Grandview in Kansas City, Missouri.


Because of the tornado ordeal, I finally went to bed at about 2:30 am that night. Daniel had picked me up at the airport, and we shared a happy hug and then fellowship on the way back to his house. About four hours into my sleep on the couch in the living room, I heard a small boyish voice ask, "Is Mr. Glenn here?" In truth, I was exhausted and annoyed, but its hard to stay that way for long around Samuel Katz, Daniel's two year old son. I did, however, manage to slip another two hours of frequently interrupted sleep into the morning. Upon finally awaking, I gave Samuel a "morning hug" and enjoyed a feast of a breakfast with the Katz family.


Most of the afternoon was spent resting. Feeling more symptomatic than usual because of the previous day's events and a lack of sleep, I tried to concentrate long enough just to read a few chapters of the Bible inbetween meals and periods of time laying down on my back. At 6pm Central Standard Time, Daniel and I left for the awakening service.


From the moment we first walked in, it felt incredibly wierd to be there. I've been watching these services through the free webcast for months, and now I was there. It seemed so much smaller in "real life." I've been to the FSM building a handful of times before in the past few years, but zooming cameras and the hype of the recent renewal there had made it seem larger than life as I followed along on my little lap top.


We worshipped for awhile. I saw Matt Crum, and noticed that he was taller and bigger than the last time I saw him. Come to think of it, Matt is turning out to be a pretty good looking guy these days. Wes hall began to orchestrate a prayer time for healing and call out different ailments. Daniel called several of his friends over to pray for me. I was especially encouraged by one guy's testimony who was praying for me. He said that he had been bitten by some insect and had contracted some disease that attacked his nervous system. Whole sections of his body went paralyzed, and they began to take him into the awakening services in a wheelchair with a mask over his face. The staff at IHOP sent out an email to pray for him in a focused way. After two months in a wheelchair, he was miraculously healed at the service one night. He got out of his wheelchair and ran a lap around the building (Daniel and I watched the video archive of that awakening service later that night). His testimony really filled me with faith.


But as the night wore on, my body seemed to hurt more and more until I felt like I just couldn't stand up front in the prayer lines any longer. One last young man came up to pray for me, and I willed myself with all of my remaining strength to receive it. He prayed diligently for me; rebuking Lyme Disease, blessing my body, praying specifically against the migraine I told him I was currently experiencing. My foggy mind wandered to and fro in a mist of weariness, every now and then hearing another one of his supplications on my behalf. He would ask if I was feeling anything different, and I would just shake my head. He looked kind of discouraged at my responses, and I tried not to get too discouraged at his discouragement. Finally, he pulled back and asked, "Is there anyone you need to forgive? I didn't hear that from God or anything, but sometimes that helps. Or anything you to need to repent of?" Honestly, I couldn't think much of anything at all. It felt like we were grasping at straws. I finally said, "Well, I've been repenting and forgiving a lot the past few months. Nothing that comes to mind." After a few more minutes, he prayed a last prayer for me. Appreciating his faithfulness in interceding for me for so long with no results, I put my hand on his back and said, thank you. Then I kind of limped back to my seat next to Daniel in the back of the auditorium and collapsed. I was...done.


Lying there in exhaustion, I turned my thoughts toward heaven. Images became clearer in my mind as I rested. I saw a garden, and I saw people I knew. I saw myself - happy, free from pain, and energetic. I was playing the drums.


I can't describe exactly what happened next. I could try, but I don't want to. It's too personal, and I don't fully understand it yet anyway. It suffices to say that I heard some words spoken as I looked at those happy scenes; words that carried a lot of meaning for me. After I heard them, I began to weep.

I wept for the last hour of the service. I felt the love of the Father around me. Mostly, I was just crying out my pain and sorrow. I think the presence of God freed me to do so. Between sobs and sniffling, I continued to croak out two phrases to God: "I'm scared," and "I miss my Dad." I don't know where these two statements came from, but something tells me that my heart is shouting these things louder than I realize. I'm scared - I haven't understood this past season of my life, and I don't know how this thing will turn out. And I miss my Dad - like, my real Dad. I miss him. I miss being in a band with him, playing shows at local Border's cafes in the Central Valley, I miss being a little kid and feeling safe around him, and I miss hearing his loud high pitched laugh when we would watch movies together.

I cried and cried until snot covered my sweatshirt. I remembered the words that were spoken to me before the floodgates of my soul had been opened. They comforted me. After awhile, I got one last prayer out. "God, be my Dad. Help me to not be afraid anymore."

Then rather abruptly, a final prayer was prayed on the microphone and the music ended. It was midnight. The room was mostly silent, except for a few people talking quietly in different parts of the room.

Suddenly, the almost undetectable gentle pattering of the summer rain outside turned into a loud downpour. Some of us looked up, marveling just for a moment about the now thundering noise of water crashing down upon the roof over our heads. A song by Phil Wickham that I have been listening to lately came immediately to mind:


I'm gonna carry you through fire, I'm gonna hold you in the rain;
You don't have to be afraid, just take My hand, take My hand.
Love is gonna make it right, just hold on, just hold on...