Standing in the middle of Barnes & Noble, I answered my phone. My dear friend on the other end, frantically calling me, stated that a mutual friend needed prayer and she needed it now! Our friend was in the middle of nowhere, in distress in her RV, with just her two young daughters.
Hearing the need expressed for the only kind of support I could give in this situation, I hunted down an empty table in the café, as far away from the main hub as I could find. When I sat down, I vividly recall grabbing the very last table. A young student was seated at the table in front of me with his backpack and laptop in front of him, while another young male was on the other side of the wall from me. I remember thinking to myself, “Sorry gentlemen, but my friend needs this more than you need silence.”
For the next three minutes I interceded on my friend’s behalf. I asked the Lord to assert God’s will in this situation and requested calm and strength amongst the storm. I fervently beseeched God to show up in my friend’s life, in such a way that she would know that it was God moving to aid her. That day I really learned the difference between prayer as a conversation and prayer as a wrestling match. My words were intense and the sense of singular purpose was wholly unique for me. The conversation was brief. I finished my call and got up from the table to go find my family.
I started apologizing for stepping away without telling them why and explained that I was asked to pray for a friend, and I was joking about how the two men next to me had to have their study sessions disrupted by the Holy Spirit.
And here is where the story gets interesting!
“What guys Mom? You were alone. There wasn’t anyone around you at all!”
I looked back at the table I just stepped away from, fully expecting to see the two gentlemen clearly sitting there. However, when I turned, what my daughter said was true. I had been alone.
I believe that the words I needed to speak on behalf of my friend were so important that I was sent guardians to watch over me while I did so. I believe that the power of the words that God knew I needed to deliver at the time needed protection. The words I spoke were answered when another two gentlemen showed up in the middle of nowhere to help my friend patch up her RV and limp to safety.
I learned the power of the right words at the right time, not as some magic trick, but as an acknowledgment of our wish to have God move in our life with purpose.
Words, our words, have weight and purpose and are valued by God. Our words matter to God. That’s their power.
Shannon Vielmann is a wife, the mother of two, and an entrepreneur.