By Stephen L. Hill
My friends and I had just pulled off a drug heist and crashed in
my room. More than 20 stoned drug addicts lay motionless, sprawled
over furniture or flat on the floor. We had flung the used syringes
into the ceiling like darts — morbid trophies dangling there,
still dripping with blood.
I barely heard the garage door open. Hazily the thought came, Who
could that be?
Moments later, my bedroom door swung open. In a panicky voice my
mom uttered only three words: "Oh, my God." Immediately,
she turned and hurried away from the appalling sight.
The thought of her calling the police shook me out of my stupor.
I stumbled in pursuit. I had to keep her away from the phone.
To my surprise, she was not by the kitchen phone. Where could she
have gone? I wondered. I made my way upstairs to her bedroom door.
I had to make sure she wasn’t calling the police from the phone
in her room.
I turned the knob and eased the door open. What I saw and heard
is still etched on my mind. Mom wasn’t calling the cops —
she was praying for Jesus to set her son free. "Jesus, please
save my boy!" still echoes in my memory.
I wish I could tell you things changed at that moment. They didn’t.
My mom continued to pray for many years. The more she prayed, the
worse things got. Once, she frantically summoned our neighbor who
was a registered nurse. After the nurse revived me, I learned that
Mom had found me lying on my bed at the point of death — syringes
still hanging out of my arm.
Mothers, God is faithful. He’s faithful to save your children.
But don’t stop there. He’s faithful to save your town,
your city, your country. He has done it before; He will do again.
Throughout history there have been seasons of grace where God poured
out His Spirit. Sometimes those outpourings lasted a few days; other
times, those visitations have gone on for months and even years,
shaking people to repent, then soaking them in His presence.
Moments of mercy usually come after long spiritual droughts. Evil
practices, occultic worship, love of pleasure and life-controlling
vices, such as alcohol and sexual lust, were rampant. Disregard
for the warnings in God’s Word, contempt for holiness, and
an "eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die" philosophy
were the rules of the day.
What has brought change in the past? Look to that tiny cottage
with only a few pieces of furniture. Inside, notice the small braided
rug, nearly worn through where some saint spent hours crying out
to God. There a praying mom labored for a spiritual awakening. As
the corridors of heaven rang with consistent, insistent, persistent,
unceasing cries for mercy, before long the power of God broke forth
like a flood.
Thanks to my momma’s faith and tenacity in going after God,
her prayers were finally answered on October 28, 1975. Since then,
I have seen hundreds of thousands fall before God and repent. Behind
every sinner repenting is a saint of God interceding on his or her
behalf. Cemeteries are full of grandmas and grandpas whose prayers
for their children and grandchildren were recorded and are now being
answered.
Today, Mom would say to every distraught mother, "Hold on
to God’s promises. Jesus answers prayers. Pray, Momma, pray!"
Stephen L. Hill, an Assemblies of God evangelist,
is a former missionary and author of six books. He has been speaking
at Brownsville Assembly of God in Pensacola, Fla., since revival began
there on Father’s Day 1995.
