Singing again, in the wires
Prayers work. Yesterday I saw a prayer answered almost immediately that caused instantaneous healing for someone and we both were ecstatic with joy. I was told of someone, earlier in the morning before church, a wonderful person, in need of a physical healing and so I prayed for them.
I also shared with them a text that I thought that God was using them to show his mercy and power. Late that evening about two am. when I was doing research on Russia and Ukraine, and was asking God what he wants me to know about that foreign situation, I went to pick a randomly chosen bible verse. The verse that came up was not about Russia and the Ukraine but was instead about the person I had prayed for earlier because the thing that needed to be healed was blindness. The random verse John 9:3 says “Jesus answered, “neither this man nor his parents sinned but because of his blindness you will see God work a miracle for him.”
I sent another text including that bible verse, late that night because it was what I believe, was God’s message to that person, and just like that, someone who was blind, the next morning, could suddenly see. It was an incredible healing by God and I am so grateful.
And then today as I was walking and pushing the stroller with 4 year old Damon to the park, I heard the song Wichita Lineman. I wrote about that song almost a year ago. I wrote about it here on medium because every-time I hear it, I get a lump in my throat because of the power…the power of God I feel when I hear it.
That confidence that people have in the power of God, that brings about instantaneous healing is analogous to having had confidence in those who managed “power” in the electric grid, or the communication grid, or the commodities grid. The song reminds us of such confidence, and knowing that no matter what happens, we WILL be supplied with what we need, even when it seems like there is no way possible.
It is the indescribable feeling of joy and life expressed in that song when there seems to be nothing but wind and dust. In that song, it seems unlikely that one lone man can do much to improve the vast expanse of wires that stretch across miles and miles of barren and seemingly forsaken land but he does not quit, does not get discouraged, and still hears “singing in the wires” not just for now but for “all time”.
Without any concrete evidence, he still knows that the land is not forsaken and neither are it’s people. It is a powerful reminder, when these days, it seems like “the famous people wielding power” are doing the opposite of Godliness. Though it is tempting to wonder if those “on the line” are trying to make sure that callers never find evidence of God, we can know that the lone lineman is still doing his good work, trusting God, and that good can still be seen and heard, even against impossible odds.
God is not limited by what “the obvious source of human power” seems to be doing, and when that power is being evil or destructive, God steps in. And the thought that “praying to God is a waste of time” can be dismissed and traded for joy, because God can take the least of these and magnify them…he can take those who have been humbled by the mighty and exalt them, and can take those who are exalted and humble them. With one tweak of the wire…through the hands of just one lone guy with faith, out somewhere in the county.
I like to believe that the same thing is happening with my lone stories on the very liberal platform Medium. With only three followers, it might seem impossible for my “the singing in the wires” story I wrote almost a year ago, to show up, and even with a search of this platform it, inexplicably, is hid. Where I used to have more than fifteen thousand followers on Twitter but was kicked off without recourse it would seem impossible for me to have a voice, but I still write and I still think and I still care, and these are things for which I am grateful.
I know that numbers mean nothing, as taught to us by the book of numbers, in the bible, where all the numbers in the world did not amount to anything. I chose to get off facebook and I am no longer on linked in (but I did get a chance to post my proclamations before I got booted) but I like to believe that I have hidden little angels, who are giving me a voice, and they give me a thumbs up when I write something inspirational.
I like to think to myself that when I see even just one bright sign going up that says “distribution now” or DNOW, that it is talking about my newest story. I understand, like the story of the loaves and fishes, that my spiritually directed words are being multiplied at an astonishing rate, and sent out to those in need even when it seems impossible because my stories are buried and hidden beneath under other peoples propaganda or doom and gloom. These thoughts make me smile.
And like the healing I wrote about in the beginning I have confidence in understanding concretely that the truckers in the freedom convoy have not sinned, and protecting unborn babies is not a sin, and freedom of choice is not a sin. I have recognized and understand that all the evil that being directed at God’s people, is there to show how God will work a great miracle for them all; all who are “the least of these” whom governments are choosing to ignore.
Jimmy Webb, who wrote the Wichita Lineman said, “This song is not just about a lineman. It is about anyone who can think about other things while they work — a truck driver, for example, or a farm-worker. It is a song about an ordinary person who has extraordinary thoughts.” I agree with you Jimmy. Thanks for that song I love it.
Thank you God for giving us songs and prayer as a direct lines to heaven, and my prayer now, is for linemen, cowboys, truckers, writers, workers, mothers, children and most of all Christians…for all those who are still making sure that our line to God stays intact, even in rain, even in snow, even when those workers think they need a small vacation. God knows no limits and good is the only outcome. Thank you God for the Wichita lineman, for singing in the wires, because I know you hear me always, my one small voice.