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Pray, Momma, pray

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.


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