Prayers That Avail Much Goes TravelingThe Prayer Team at Work
By Germaine Copeland
The time has come to leave the nondescript dust-covered village on the edge of the desert. It is late Sunday afternoon and we linger because we don’t know how long it will be before we see our friends again. We continue chatting with each other as we drift toward the van where we say goodbye, and plop into our self-assigned seats for the return trip to Ifrane. In spite of feeling weary no one sleeps; there is a silent agreement that we will stay awake and remain prayerfully alert in support of Andy who is driving. No one is more eager to reach our hotel in Ifrane than he is.Leaving the town behind we follow the same mountainous roadway as yesterday, but now an air of mystery hovers over us; the air which had felt so heavy becomes crisp, clean and clear. In my heart I reach out to touch the star-studded sky where the Lord of host and His army are riding on the wings of the soft winds surrounding us, making our passage safe.
The lights of the oncoming traffic slice through the darkness. Loaded trucks and buses, cars jam packed with people, and careening vans are coming toward us or bearing down on us from behind. We laugh at ourselves to relieve tense moments, and someone declares God’s protection according to Psalm 91, we thank Him for the angels He has assigned to us. God is faithful to watch over His Word to perform it! Experiencing the presence of our Heavenly Father, we prayed a lot on this trip!
In spite of the sounds of the traffic the sparkling magnificent sky inspires thoughts of my God. Just as I settle into the quietness, rain clouds blanket the skies spilling the gathering moisture on us. Continuing to gaze at God’s creation I see a mysterious light playing hide-and-seek with the dark clouds. Momentarily the rain ceases, clouds part and the earth is bathed in moonlight. Nature declares His handiwork. God said, “Let there be Light, and there was Light’ He created the sun, moon and the stars and the clouds that heed His command.”
Silence has now filled the van, and I turn my thoughts away from God’s creation to God’s plan, how He brought us from different backgrounds along different journeys for such a time as this.
There’s Andy, a Navy man, who grew up in a Christian home in Florida, met and married Gail, a Christian Scientist. Andy strayed from his church before returning to the God of his childhood, and Gail became a follower of Jesus. A few years later they gave up their careers to be part of establishing the Kingdom of God for all peoples. As ministries of God they are changing the lives of others through innovative programs that provide practical help for the people of North Africa. After twenty years of marriage God blessed them with a son who leads praise and worship.
Then there’s David, my son, who describes himself as a glorious delivered addict. For 28 years of his life he lived in bondage to drugs and alcohol. Several years ago while in prison on DUI charges he stripped off the old nature as a discarded overcoat and turned to the God who clothed him in robes of righteousness. He now works fulltime for Angel Food Ministries in Monroe, Georgia USA and serves on the board of directors for Word Ministries. The Father is restoring and healing his relationships with his four children and nine grandchildren.
Tall, regal Pastor Lane Holland M. Div. never wandered from her spiritual roots. Having begun her prayer training at the age of five she remained faithful to God through her years as a graduate student and professor at Yale University before giving up a promising career and returning to her hometown where she is in fulltime ministry. She also serves as a Board Director for Word Ministries, Inc.
Clare Fischer, an intercessor for Word Ministries, grew up in New York City where she attended the Catholic Church with her parents and sisters. After marriage her husband was transferred to Virginia where they lived before moving to Marietta, Georgia USA. Through a neighborhood Bible study she was gloriously saved and filled with the Holy Spirit. She is a radical believer and prophet who mentors younger women in the ways of righteousness.
I make up the fifth member of this group. Called to the ministry when I was seventeen, I bargained with God and promised that I would do His will if He would allow me get married and have children first. After marriage and four children, God came for my vow and I returned to the God of my childhood. Here we are together in one mind and one accord driving on a busy, narrow road in the Kingdom of Morocco. My heart sings, “He leadeth me, He leadeth me, by His own hand He leadeth me.”
My musings cease as we pull up before the Hotel. After a late dinner we reclaim our room keys and make our way up the stairs for a much needed rest.
The Prayer Journey ContinuesMonday is cloudy with occasional mist. Our assignment continues. It’s been several days since we crossed the border into Morocco, a nation 10 miles from Spain.
This morning Andy turns off the main road and drives the muddy ribbon of a lane that will take us to the Haven. Suddenly, he stops. A donkey is blocking our way and a young woman is attempting to lead the animal to the side of the road. She prods, pulls, pushes until she moves the loaded animal while young men watch before turning their gaze on us. This is a reminder of something I read somewhere: in Morocco women work; men think. It isn’t unusual to see the women trudging with heavy bundles, while balancing babies bound on their backs.
Andy puts the car in gear and edges by the harried woman and her donkey, makes the slight left turn into the yard of The Haven. It’s becoming the story of our lives, climbing in and out of the van. David and I go inside to check our emails on Annette’s computer while Lane and Clare get acquainted with the children.
Praying for Morocco
David, Germaine, Lane & Clare on the mountain overlooking Azrou Today we are making our second trip to a favorite village, Azrou, where we stroll through the marketplace and have lunch. Andy has been here before and the merchants recognize him. Clare is interested in the slippers, Lane looks at the hooded djellabahs, decides that she can make her own. David and I each see items we want for Christmas gifts. There’s so much to see; Andy helps us negotiate prices before going to the rug merchant’s shop where the brothers show me many rugs, but I’m only interested in the one with the Berber crosses.Many centuries ago they were followers of Christ. Pray that the Ancient Doors of Christianity might be opened once again that the King of Glory might come in.
After lunch we stow the packages in back of the van, Andy pays the young man who watched over it and we are off to fulfill our prayer assignment. Andy drives up the mountain road where we are free to pray. The eerie sound of the Muslim call to prayer fills the air, and the spiritual battle begins. In the name of Jesus we take our spiritual weapons and use them to knock down the devil’s strongholds. We break down every argument that keeps people from knowing you, Father God. We ask you, Lord of the Harvest, to thrust the perfect laborers across the lives of the Moroccan people in the village of Azrou – people who will share the good news of the Gospel. We decree that they will not be able to resist the wooing of the Holy Spirit who is drawing them to the Light of God’s Word. The zeal of the Lord of Hosts will perform this! The Holy Spirit moves in and helps us pray! Although we are on our guard we do not allow the barking of the wild dogs to distract us from our mission of prayer. When the dogs retreat the monkeys scurry to safer ground.
A November mist drapes itself over us, and we eagerly seek shelter after the prayer comes to a close. Clare brings our attention to the prophetic sign of light breaking through the clouds a second time. This occurred the first time we visited Azrou after we had prayed. The rain does not dampen our spirits, but we are ready for the afternoon coffee break. Arriving back in Ifrane we prepare for our evening with the Berber family.
Photo by ClareTo Be Continued
Copyright ©2007 by Germaine Copeland