The situation with the drunken men was becoming increasingly worse. Almost every day we had to deal with an unwanted disruption, and it began to feel like the devil was deliberately sending people in to cause us distress.
I asked Casper about the possibility of us having an extra prayer meeting after the shop was closed, and he said that he had been considering the same thing.
He decided that it would be good to have some back-up and mentioned that his mother-in-law was a prayer warrior.
“When she prays, things happen!” he said, with his eyes widening.
“Really?” I was hoping he would elaborate. He didn’t disappoint.
Oh yes,” he continued, “once she asked God to send someone to Timbuktu and he did! They really went to Timbuktu!”
I could see why he was so keen to have Ellie’s mum join us in intercession. With results like that, we could clear the whole town of drunks and hopefully she will be on such top form that Jemima and the Prince of Egypt would disappear with them.
I was excited. We were all so fed up having to call the security guards. The Holy Spirit was the best guard and he had power! I couldn’t wait for this session.
When the special day arose, Casper locked the doors and turned off the main lights. Trudy, Louise, Sophie, Casper, Ellie, her mother and I, gathered together in a rough circle on the ground floor. Before we began to pray, I glanced at this formidable lady and wondered if she also had the power to read people’s minds. I quickly recapped in my head all the things I had said and done within the last few days to check if I had any unconfessed sin latched to my soul. I didn’t want her to suddenly point at me and exclaim,
“You! You laughed when that porcelain statue broke because you thought it was ugly. And you ate a priest’s wafer!”
We began to pray, and it felt like things were moving in the heavenlies. Ellie’s mum was indeed a mighty prayer warrior and it was great to have her join us for this serious moment of binding, loosing and deep supplication. But it was also so intense that I wondered if I would suddenly feel the urge to burst out laughing. There had been times when I had attended a funeral and just because people were so sombre and sad, I had developed an unexpected impulse to giggle.
I dreaded the thought of what my colleagues would think of me should I do such a thing. I imagined them casting out spirits of mockery, complacency, flippancy and lack of self-control. If this happened, would I fall to the floor and start foaming at the mouth and writhing like a snake?
I bit my lip just in case.
As the prayer session continued, I forgot about my fears and got really into ‘standing in the gap’ for our shop. We prayed for customers, Head Office, the staff at the warehouse and for the particular offenders who gave us trouble each week. We rebuked the devil and claimed the peace of God over our building.
Oh, we were on fire!
When we reached the mezzanine floor, Ellie’s mum grabbed the bannister and began rubbing it lightly with her hands. She looked down then turned towards Casper and asked,
“Has anyone ever tried to jump from here?”
“No. Only me.” He replied.
She glared at him crossly and ignored the remark.
Trudy and Louise laughed a little, but Sophie and I were in hysterics.
I don’t remember what happened after that. It completely ruined the moment for me. I had mental images of Casper hiding in the store cupboard until Trudy finished re-stocking her card display, then sneakily climbing up onto the balcony and jumping off with his arms outstretched. I then imagined a loud thud as he hits the floor and begins cursing when he realises he is still very much alive.
It felt good to come together to seek the Lord’s blessing like this and even though the problems didn’t go away entirely, we were pleased we had made the effort and trusted God to work on our behalf.
Thankfully, Casper never attempted to leap from the balcony, but I cannot promise you that his desire to do so, ever went away.
