When God Speaks … Listen! (Part 3)

I started attending this little church that I had been led to attend 7 years prior. I started going to the 11:00 a.m. service. I was determined that I was not going to say anything about my singing ability because I wanted to know that I was attending this church for the right reasons and not just because I could sing. After attending this service for a couple of months, I was led to go to Sunday School. Bare in mind, I had not been in Sunday School since I was a little girl. To my surprise, I really enjoyed it. I felt such a sweet Spirit in this church. I also started attending Wednesday night services. I found myself anticipating going to church. This was the first time in over 7 years that I felt I belonged somewhere.

I started to think about joining this congregation. I prayed about it and pleaded with the Lord to direct me in the way he wanted me to go. The church was preparing for revival services starting with a week of cottage prayer meetings. I had been asked to sing during this time. Because I had not been singing since being diagnosed with asthma, I allowed the devil to weigh me down with fear. I attended the cottage prayer meetings and I found myself in fellowship with such a wonderful group of Spirit-filled believers. I continue to thank the Lord for this. I also entertained the thought of joining this congregation more and more. I continued to seek God’s perfect will.

One night after prayer meeting I stopped by a nearby grocery store to pick up a few things. While in the store, I spoke to this lady who was looking for an express lane. The man told her there was not one open at this time and she said, “Oh, I was just trying to find my way around, I’ve just moved here”. She thanked the man and came and stood behind me. I noticed she had only a box of Band-Aids, so I told her she could go ahead of me. She said, “Are you sure?” I said, “Certainly, no problem”. She said, “I’ve been moving all day and my hands are torn all to bits.” And, sure enough, they were. I asked her where she was moving to and she said they were actually building a house in Wakefield, which is a very exclusive housing development. I told her how beautiful I thought it was there. I asked her where she moved from and she said Charlotte. I then asked her if she had she found a church here yet? She said she had not, so I proceeded to invite her to the church I was attending. She asked me the name of the church, so I wrote it down with the directions for her. Her name was June and she said she would see me, and I said I sure hoped so and she said, “You will!” I felt so wonderful and just praised the Lord on my way home for allowing me the opportunity to invite someone to church.

The next evening at cottage prayer meeting the Pastor had read some scripture out of the Bible and we had been discussing it. Just before we went into our prayer session, he ended the discussion with these words (I will never forget them because I felt as if the Lord had put his arms around me at that same moment that he spoke them): “We are all called to be witnesses for the Lord. We never know when we could be witnessing, say, to someone who has just moved here from Charlotte”. When he said “Charlotte”, I melted! It was at that moment I knew I would join this congregation. I wanted to speak up and say, “Hey, Pastor, were you at the Food Lion last night or what?” Isn’t the Lord amazing?

Sunday was homecoming for the church and that was also the day they planned to kick off the revival services. I figured, “What better day to join than on homecoming”. After all, I felt as if I was coming home, especially if you realize that I have not been an actual member of a church since I was about 18 years old. I became a member of the Wake Union Baptist Church on August 8, 1999.

Now came the Monday night that I was to sing 3 songs back-to-back. Needless to say my palms were sweating and I was nervous. I had a dream the night before, as follows:

I got to the church and handed my tapes to the sound technician when I realized I brought the wrong tapes! I had picked them up by mistake! In fact, I didn’t even know the songs and there was not enough time to go back home and get the right ones! Then, I went up to the pulpit area and picked up the microphone and it had a real short cord and I had to bend over in order to sing.

Needless to say when I woke up this Monday morning I was very distraught!

The night was here. It was time to sing. I arrived at the church and gave the sound technician my tapes and shared my dream with some of the women there who had been praying for me. We all laughed and said it’s gonna be all right. As I stood waiting for the music to start, it could not be heard. I found myself bending down over the speaker to try and hear a familiar note in order to begin singing but the cord on the microphone would not reach! It was then that this little voice (The Holy Spirit) said, “Start singing. You are singing to me not to them — the music doesn’t matter.” It took me a moment to get my concentration solely on the Lord, but, when I did, I felt strength beyond my comprehension. The music was never right but then again … maybe it was? The music actually stopped on the last song as I kept singing but eventually I stopped, and, as soon as I stopped, the music started back up again in its faintness. I started to chuckle aloud and said, “Satan, you are not gonna take this away.” I then finished the song.

As I sat down, Pastor Lawson took his place at the pulpit. When he began preaching I remember him saying how we needed to be a witness for Christ Jesus whether it be down the road at the Food Lion or etc. Again, that was a confirmation to me! Once again, I felt the Lord’s arms around me!

This morning, I got up and was getting ready to go to work when I realized a few things that makes me want to shout, praise the Lord and smile continuously.

1. I may not have brought the wrong music but none the less I had no music.

2. The microphone cord was not too short when standing straight up for the Lord. It only became too short when I bent over and took my eyes off him.

3. The words to any song are the most important, not the beat or how loud the music is. It is the contents, which is the message. [++]

Seven years ago on a Monday night, this happened to me while singing for about 200 people in a church (Bible Application Class). I cried and actually felt anger toward the sound technician. I also felt embarrassed and humiliated. The congregation tried to encourage me by telling me how much my singing had touched them. It was hard to hear them because I could not get past my own hurt feelings. I don’t know about you but for me, it’s really hard for me to see when my eye’s are on me.

Tonight, seven years later, also on a Monday night, I felt the Lord being in control and the power in him gives me a strength and joy that cannot be explained by me. All I know is that I love the Lord with all my heart and depending on him is all I can really be sure of in my life. I guess you could say that I actually started dying to myself this day! Praise The Lord!!!!!!

Thank you Lord for choosing and loving me.

Your Child,

Ellen Ann

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[++] Editor’s footnote: Some beats and rhythms are demonicly inspired and will bring a curse on those who listen to them. This is not the essence of what the author has mentioned here, however, it is an important footnote in case there might be any confusion with some who may feel that the author’s statement gives licence to listen to any type of beat or rhythm. Be aware!