Saturday night at IHOP KC: It is not my favorite time here. It is crowded at the Forerunner Christian Fellowship building. Add to that the truth that anything could happen at any minute. I am not super comfortable in those kinds of settings. I have seen many things on a Saturday night, in this warehouse, over the last five years.
Just so we are clear Saturday night is church night. It lasts four hours plus ministry time and prayer room added to the back end. One can spend six hours at church. Of course that is Saturday. You also go to church on Friday. But for some reason it is always on Saturday when Jesus shanghais me.
To make it clear Saturday goes something like this: Worship for 1 hour sometimes more. At this point the healing time begins. For some reason healing time at IHOP and announcements at Southlands make me uncomfortable. I cannot connect the two but trust me I feel equally strange during both times. For the record while announcements may stretch to 10 minutes, healing at IHOP can last several hours.
I am not against healing. I think I’m pretty much for it. But nonetheless I get really nervous during that time. It could be the pressure I begin to feel. All these people who need healing and I feel the tension and pressure for them to get healed. Who knows?
So let the healing begin. Wes Hall stands up and begins to ask everyone who needs healing to stand and you know it is almost everyone. I usually get out my Bible, look like I am an outsider, and hope it all goes away. So wouldn’t you know this guy stands up next to me. “You have got to be kidding me,” is what I am thinking. Oh well someone will come and pray for him, they always do. But not this time. Nope he is standing and I am pretending I can’t see him. Oh this Jesus, I can’t believe that I have to stand up and lay my hands on this guy. And by the way, nobody ever comes. It’s just me. This poor guy is stuck with me.
So there are rules to engagement at IHOP. Ask the person’s name. Ask what they want healed. Stay with it until said healing occurs. Or at least until somebody falls down. When you fall down you get a brown blanket. I am still hoping for that day. So I do not follow the rules. I put my hand on his shoulder and no questions will be asked. No eye contact, no names. He is on staff. I can see his badge. He knows that I am not following protocol.There is no way this will go well.
And so I continue. I thank God for how amazing He is. I praise Him for His goodness. I completely forget to ask for the guy to be healed. I am speaking in gibberish. I’m starting to feel sick. My head is hurting. I am so hot. I am sweating. I notice that my arms are hurting that my legs ache, that my back hurts. I could be having a heart attack. It is not clear. But I keep praying. In my head I know his knee is the issue. God just tells me. I keep it to myself. I am so afraid of this stuff. I hope he doesn’t notice that I might be getting sick.
This lasts about 10 minutes, the length of a classically delivered announcement at Southlands. I can’t take much more. I am pretty sure I am going to need a blanket and that will totally blow the whole thing since the guy I am praying for is supposed to need the blanket if I nail this thing. I finally sit down. I put my head between my legs. I am for sure dying. My arms hurt and I can barely breathe. There is no way anyone will call 911 if I start convulsing, the best I can hope for is that blanket. I take a look over at the guy while my head is between my legs. He is moving his knee around. He does this little stretch kind of thing two or three times. He is doing little exercises. He is following protocol. He goes for a walk. He is healed; He knows it, I know it. Just another Saturday night at IHOP KC.
