I’m walking around the prayer room tapping on my iPhone at the International House of Prayer in Atlanta, Georgia, confidently saying that you can forget Mr. Potter and all that counterfeit crap the world foists on us: when you’re sitting there in the prayer room and the keyboard player prophesies something that pierces your heart, or the guitar player starts singing the worship song that you were just whistling in the car not two minutes ago–THAT’S magic.

That’s real magic, the ‘deep magic’ of which Mr. Lewis prophesied.

This is the real magic, the magic that no two-hour movie or 24-hour entertainment channel can ever reproduce.

This is the magic of the living God, the supernatural activity by the hand of the Uncreated God, YHVH, that sets the heart free. There is no magic like it, not from the hand of the devil nor of man, and nor shall there ever be.

This is the magic of Jesus Christ, Who is both the miracle worker from Nazareth…

…and the One without whom nothing was created.

I don’t need to see Mary Poppins organizing a playroom by whistling a tune, or see pointy-hatted women flitting about on broomsticks. I need my heart set free.

I don’t need realistic dinosaurs, animated toys, or terrifying aliens. Sure, those will keep me distracted for a few hours…

…but what happens after that? What happens Monday morning at the workplace, the clinic, or the hospital?

Will my name be in the headlines tomorrow morning…or in the obituaries?

I need the real stuff. I need my broken spine healed. I need my daughter delivered of night terrors. I need to stop crying my eyes out at night, wondering if next week I’ll have a son that’s alive, a wife that’s still at home, a workplace to go to…or a life that’s worth living.

I need magic…and I’ve found it. This is the real magic. The true magic is found here and here alone–here in his presence.The Holy Spirit is the only true magician, because it is only He Who can reach deep down into the heart of man and touch that most painful spot. Only He knows what really happened that day. And only He can make it better.

Even Disney could not have imagined this: when I see broken limbs restored, when I see men and women delivered from twenty years of depression, when I daily see and hear reports of rheumatoid arthritis, ovarian cysts, intestinal twisting, shin splints, even the embarrassing stuff that noone talks about, like hemorrhoids and ingrown toenails…when I see all these things healed, bowing before the mighty name of Jesus, THAT’S MAGIC.

That’s magic. This is a magical place, and I worship a magical and majestic King Who can heal me, Who can deliver me, and who can save me from myself, the world, and the grave.

That’s magic. Accept no substitutes.

Exhausted from worship? A bus-full of youth had been dropped off, and those guys were wild. Their enthusiasm punched everything up a notch. I noted with satisfaction later that the man who was worshipping the loudest and most passionately among the group…was the youth leader himself. So cool. Billy commented, “so I thought I was going to a service, but it looks like I came into an aerobics class!” It was really cool, but also very tiring jumping around like David with folks half my age!

So anyway, I’m sitting back chilling out. I hear the altar call and get this prompting inside that I really need to go up there. But I’m stalling because I’m tired, it didn’t really specifically name my problem, and there are probably others who need healing more than I do.

Then two more words come forth: “you have chronic inner ear infections,” then, “you’re having pain in some dental work or in your teeth.” Both described me to a T; I have had recurring problems with ear infections over the past few months, plus this weekend the molars on the top right of my mouth were starting to really hurt, making me wonder if I had an abscess developing.

At that point I knew that my number had been called, and I knew that it would really be disobedience if I didn’t go. So I did. And today my jaw doesn’t hurt any more. I attacked my gums with dental floss and poked and prodded my teeth all day long. No pain whatsoever. Jesus healed me.

It’s the Naaman principle at work, 2 Kings 5. Naaman was a foreign king who had an incurable skin disease. So he goes to the man of God…and gets an unexpected answer:

So Naaman came with his horses and chariots and stood in the doorway of Elisha’s house. Elisha sent out a messenger who told him, “Go and wash seven times in the Jordan; your skin will be restored and you will be healed.” Naaman went away angry. He said, “Look, I thought for sure he would come out, stand there, invoke the name of the LORD his God, wave his hand over the area, and cure the skin disease. The rivers of Damascus, the Abana and Pharpar, are better than any of the waters of Israel! Could I not wash in them and be healed?” So he turned around and went away angry. His servants approached and said to him, “O master, if the prophet had told you to do some difficult task, you would have been willing to do it. It seems you should be happy that he simply said, “Wash and you will be healed.” So he went down and dipped in the Jordan seven times, as the prophet had instructed. His skin became as smooth as a young child’s and he was healed.

And thus Naaman learned that God heals people however He wants to, and not always in the way we think. One of the ministers here gave a good message a few weeks ago that brought this principle into present culture: You have a sickness or some type of demonic oppression, so instead of healing you at home in your bed at 10pm, He tells you to go to a specific geographic location (then: the prophet’s home in Israel, now: wherever God is moving in signs and wonders and miraculous power) at a specific time, and go stand up in front. And just stand there. Maybe you stand there with your hands out like you’re receiving a gift. Maybe someone prays for you, maybe not. And because you humbled yourself and did what the Lord asked, you get your healing.

But many don’t. It saddens me when I hear believers say things like, “oh, I would do ANYTHING if God would heal me of this.” Then someone suggests they go to a healing service and you could hear crickets chirping. Why? Because of pride. Some think that God can heal them wherever, whenever, so they’ll just complain or ‘grin and bear it’ and try to outlast God. And God smiles and lets them remain sick so eventually they’ll listen. Hopefully.

That kind of pride is something I was struggling with today. You remember how I mentioned there were two words of knowledge, one for teeth and one for ear infections? The problem with my teeth vanished almost instantly. Total breakthrough; Jesus’ healing power at work.

The ear infection? Well, it got worse. A lot worse, to the point where I was going to leave work with severe headache and nausea. So the conversation I have in my heart with the Lord goes something like this:

“Lord, thank you for healing my teeth. Now can you please heal this ear infection?”

“Your wife suggested you go to the doctor. So go to the doctor after work.”

“Ummm…yeah. So Lord, please heal my ear infection, it really hurts.”

“Yep. Go to the doctor.”

“But Lord, I’m believing for my healing!”

“That’s good. So go to the doctor.”

At this point I am arguing with this. As an ardent tongue-talking Charismatic, I believe that the prayer of faith will heal the sick, and boy howdy, I’m gonna get my healing.

“So Lord, I’m believing for my healing.”

“That’s great! So go to the doctor’s office after work, get them to look at it, and do everything they tell you to do.”

At this point I’m getting a little irritated, because if God can issue a major healing to my wife, grow out legs two inches, heal blind eyes, and cure several cases of fibromyalgia (all of which have happened at IHOP-Atlanta numerous times since the awakening services started in January), then He can heal my ears.

It is then that the Lord, who is infinitely smarter and kinder than I am, asks me a question: “If I had asked you to go dip in the Jordan seven times like Naaman, you would have done it. So why, when I ask you to do a simple thing like go to the doctor and follow their instructions, are you arguing with My method of healing you this time around?”

No further objections, Your Honor. I get it now. So I go to the human doctor down the street, who prescribes real physical pills and tells me to stay home tomorrow to rest. And I’m following her instructions to the letter.

And once again, I get to enjoy the taste of humble pie. And I realize again that God knows better than I do. :)

But then I hear some of the revelation God has given some of my friends at IHOP-Atlanta or IHOP-KC, it feels like everyone else is a scholar except me! One day I was lamenting this before the Lord and had a vision of a huuuuge banquet, one of those like I could imagine on a cruise ship, in a huge room with a balcony, with tables filled with awesome food everywhere. The Lord asked me if I could eat all of this in one day. I said, “no, of course not, just maybe one plate or two if I’m really hungry.” He said, “This huge banquet is My Word. It is all good, but there is only so much you can eat in a day. Don’t sweat it.”

So I remember that every time I get overwhelmed with how much I don’t know. :)

“But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.” -John 14:26

From

written 2/15/96

(creeping out beyond the shell
the pit in which my love had fell
no longer finding comfort there
reaching out for kind and care)

             held and having, having, hold
             why do I have to be so bold
             the looks, the sight, the sudden glance
             all form in a colossal dance

             the calls, the letters           (timed just right?)
             picture shows upon the night
             knots and nervous             [look around]
             sight, serenity, secret sound

             on the air, so cold and still
             wonders if we ever will?
             errors none                        (go fast or slow?)
             will it work… or will I know?

             cryptic hints and dropped-lines down
             not for fame or great renown
             but for the look, the glance, the smile
             that makes me know
                                      it’s worth the while

(the shell is gone, comes out my heart
now never shall we ever part
things in common, things we do
I know               it’s you)

copyright ©1996 Stephen Shores, all rights reserved

Well, that’s it. <geek>This took forever to format correctly because of all the creative HTML and CSS tags I had to look up to get the critical formatting just right–sheesh!</geek>

I noticed a prophetic twist at the end: ‘now never shall we ever part’. The grammar there is a blatant artistic cheat, but the prediction did come true: a little over five years later, I married my high school sweetheart, the one for whom this poem was composed. :)

Edit: On 5/13/97, a little over a year later, I made a slight change to the last stanza, following a time where God was really drawing me back to Him:

   (the shell is gone, comes out my heart
   now never shall we ever part
   things in common, things we do
   I know it’s God
                                                        it’s you.)
                                     it’s me

See? I can be both cheesy AND creative. :)

Instead of resenting this and complaining to God constantly (which I always want to avoid doing because it’s disrespectful to God, and I hate it when my kids do that to me), He helped me turn the situation on its head.

Here are a few ideas on work that have helped me, and I hope they will help anyone who knows that they are called to full-time ministry but finds themselves in the working world:

1. I am called to minister before the Lord all my days, including now. And anything I do for Him counts. This goes for everything, from leading the most anointed worship song, all the way ‘down’ to wiping the noses of one of my little girls (‘offering a cup of cold water’). If I do it unto Him, it can be counted as ministry to Him.
2. Therefore, my 40-plus hour a week job is also a labor of love to Him. Even if it’s talking to annoying people who can’t use computers. ;)
3. I can also consider what I do during the week as tentmaking. Paul worked a full-time job as a tentmaker during the week while in full-time ministry, in between mission trips (see Acts).
4. Even though the majority of my time per week is spent in the workplace (40 hours) and my time in the prayer room is comparatively small (9+ hours, depending on a number of factors), I shouldn’t consider technical support for a paycheck as demeaning or any less a ministry. The paycheck allows my family and I to give larger tithes and offerings, to bless missionaries, and to stay afloat financially while waiting for our breakthrough.
5. I can also consider the workplace a training ground for ministry. Any work in customer service or management (both of which I do right now, as a help desk supervisor) is a good thing to have, because you get to (and are forced to) learn how to deal with all sorts of people. The thing about ministry is that it consists of ministering to the Lord…and to people. Ministering to the Lord is relatively easy because He’s so nice. Ministering to people? Ehh, mixed bag. The sooner we learn how to deal with people of all shapes and sizes, the better.
6. I don’t work for a paycheck. One of my managers said that ‘we all work to earn money for our families; that’s why we work.’ I love my family, but I don’t work for them. I work unto the Lord, because this is the assignment He has given me, and I love Him. The paycheck and insurance is a bonus, but I don’t even pretend that I ‘earn’ the paycheck. I work unto the Lord, and He brings the increase. It is God who gives us the power to get wealth. I consider my job a ministry unto Him, and the direct deposit that ends up in my bank account every few weeks, be it large or small, is a blessing back from Him that I can use to bless Him in return (through tithing), bless my family (through providing for them), and blessing others (giving offerings and blessing friends).

Thinking of one’s job as an assignment from the Lord is a very important point, especially in these days of financial upheaval and shaking in the world. Those who were multimillionaires in the 80′s and 90′s will find themselves working at comparatively menial tasks, merely to earn a paycheck. I have been personally forced to accept whatever work the Lord would bring along, because being a college dropout is the fast track to Nowheresville…without a Redeemer.

Thankfully, though I have suffered joblessness for a few short spells (which were actually instrumental in developing patience, trust in the Lord, and character), the Lord has never failed to provide me with some sort of work. It hasn’t always been work I’ve enjoyed–let’s just say that call center work would not be my normal Saturday afternoon vacation pursuit–but it has been useful. Even the jobs that I have absolutely despised were important, because when you are dependent on a job for your wherewithal, and the Lord will not open another door, it means you have to grow up.

Even jobs like I’ve had, some of which made me so anxious, frustrated, and depressed that I just wanted to end it all. Of course I couldn’t, because my wife and kids depended on me. So I had to learn how to trust in the Lord, just to survive on a daily basis. I learned to seek His peace, and eventually I found it. It took years and seasons of hell with just enough refreshing times to where I didn’t totally crack, but He got me though.

Somehow the Lord keeps us together, even when we’re falling apart, because He wants us to shine as instruments of His grace. In the end (though this is far from the end), I have learned that I can totally depend on God. I can totally trust Jesus with my life, my ministry, my family, my heart, my everything. I can lay it all on the line, because I know He is faithful, and will continue to be faithful until I’m just like Jesus.

I have been to the gates of hell and back a number of times, metaphorically speaking, and trust me, it has not been a pleasant journey. But Jesus rescued me from years of religious boredom and backsliding. He could have said, ‘well, you departed from Me, so see ya, have fun in the lake of fire, and don’t forget your swimming lessons,’ but He didn’t. He didn’t forget about me when I forgot about Him. Instead, He found me and brought me back. So I can’t complain. ‘Cause He didn’t.

Going to the Cross was a labor of love for Christ. Getting scourged, beaten, mocked, and finally murdered was no picnic, so my lot, which consists of waking up (from a comfortable pillowtop mattress, under nice warm covers), showering (with hot, clean running water), and driving to an office park (in a car! which is more than most people in the world have) for nine hours a day and back, isn’t really all that bad in comparison. My lot may not be all fun and games, but it’s not bad, and I can count it as a labor of love to Him. No matter how many zeros end up in the bank account, sensing His smile on my life is enough of a bonus to me.