Ask, He Will Come
In the course of writing the book, "A Little Door, A Little Light," I made a habit of tape recording the interviewee's story. From the beginning, I knew God was orchestrating the undertaking, and, I tried to be intuitive and sensitive to His subtle messages.
A new habit I adopted during this process was praying for my Heavenly Father's guidance before each interview. When I asked, He was there offering guidance throughout the harvest of true and often sensitive personal encounters with angels, visions, and other reflections of heavenly interventions. These were stories not usually spoken of outside their family circles, yet they were magnificent and all chronicled life after death encounters. Because the actual collection of stories was so wondrous I didn't want the process to ever end!
One particular day however, I remember being behind schedule and feeling hurried as each passing minute ticked away. Of all the lessons I had learned, I forgot the most important, my daily prayer asking for God's direction. As I was soon to find out, my inattention was about to backfire, in a big way!
I could feel my excitement brewing as I arrived at a schoolteacher's home. This was our first meeting together, though we had spoken earlier by phone at which time she recounted her story. Silently, I was hoping for a good session as she greeted me and guided me into the sitting room. She seemed gracious enough as I sat and prepared my tape recorder to receive her spoken anecdote. However, just as I was prepared to begin she sat back in her chair, her smile disappeared, her arms folded, and in a skeptical voice she said, ŇOkay what exactly you plan on doing with this story?"
I thought, "This is strange behavior! What shall I do? She knows her stories will be in my book." Then, the answer to my query hit me like a ton of bricks! "Prayer, it is all about prayer, or the lack thereof, in my case. It has powerful outcomes. It can open, or close, many doors. My door to God was obviously partially closed today because I neglected to ask for His help in prayer." I was ashamed, even though I knew the Heavenly Father was just giving me a lesson in humility. Regardless, my mind was searching for a solution to my dilemma - "How shall I proceed?"
To break the ice, so to speak, I started telling the teacher a personal story about my son, Jason. I spoke of his life, those 17 wonderful years together, and then the horror of his death. I intertwined my story of Jason's life, and the time he spoke to me three months after his death. Every word I spoke was like reliving the very event. My voice shook. Heart-wrenching sobs racked my body as I told her about the time in church when God sent Jason to comfort me. At that point, I felt emotionally shattered.
I remembered saying, "I've lost him. I'll never hold my son again." The moment was intense, me in tears, every part of my being in agony. Then my son stood beside me. I could smell his favorite aftershave and he spoke, "You have not lost me mom. I am still here."
Without a doubt, I knew Jason's spirit had returned to be with us in that room. Still, I was reeling in a time warp, my emotions obviously in turmoil. Without warning, my listener reached for me, her fingers ever so gently wrapping around my wrist. Her touch was calming and she continued soothing me until I was at peace with myself.
Shortly, the teacher began recording her stories. As I sat listening, realizing God answered my prayers again. I learned a vital and valuable lesson that day: "There is power in prayer."
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