If you are a Christian, then you've been a disobedient one. I am no different. In the late 1990s I was having a personal revival. I attended a lot conferences, prayed, wrote, ministered and went to church. It was very important for me to include my family as much as possible. My heart’s desire was to minister with them at my side. I often think of Dave, Joyce Meyer‘s husband sitting there in the front row being, her biggest cheerleader.
I was invited to preach in VT and I set a date. A few days before I was supposed to go, I called and cancelled. I had wanted my family to go, and it was in a bit of disarray at the time. That Sunday I went to my church and prayed before the service. After about two songs, I was just over come by the spirit of God. There I lay on the floor between two rows of chairs, my family on either side of me. The music ended, and I couldn't seem to get up. Twenty or so minutes passed, and I finally heard the voice of God, “Why are you here David? You are supposed to be in Vermont, you gave your word.”
“I’m sorry Lord, please forgive me.” I said quietly. When you are on the floor, you don’t feel like making a lot of excuses, or trying to blame it on some else.
As I left church, I pulled out my cell, and called the pastor in Vermont. His wife answered. “Hello, David.”
“I am so sorry; I know I was supposed to be there this morning.” I said sheepishly.
“That’s right.” She quipped and handed the phone to the pastor.
I apologized again, and he said that he had been looking forward to it. We set another date.
I was invited to preach in VT and I set a date. A few days before I was supposed to go, I called and cancelled. I had wanted my family to go, and it was in a bit of disarray at the time. That Sunday I went to my church and prayed before the service. After about two songs, I was just over come by the spirit of God. There I lay on the floor between two rows of chairs, my family on either side of me. The music ended, and I couldn't seem to get up. Twenty or so minutes passed, and I finally heard the voice of God, “Why are you here David? You are supposed to be in Vermont, you gave your word.”
“I’m sorry Lord, please forgive me.” I said quietly. When you are on the floor, you don’t feel like making a lot of excuses, or trying to blame it on some else.
As I left church, I pulled out my cell, and called the pastor in Vermont. His wife answered. “Hello, David.”
“I am so sorry; I know I was supposed to be there this morning.” I said sheepishly.
“That’s right.” She quipped and handed the phone to the pastor.
I apologized again, and he said that he had been looking forward to it. We set another date.
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