21-Day Fast: Breakthrough Stories
by gingerhohm on May 10th, 2010
filed under Journal
I experienced my own personal “breakthrough” the fist day I stepped inside San Quentin Federal Prison. I would leave a different person.
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No, I never “did time” in prison, but I had the honor of ministering in one. Here’s my story….
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I was playing in a Christian band that was invited to do a service at the chapel in San Quentin. I was cautious, but excited to see how God would use us to touch these lives. Little did I know, I was the one who was about to experience a life-changing event. As soon as we walked past the heavy metal gates, I felt welcome. These men were helpful, kind, and seemed void of any hidden agendas. As we began setting up our equipment, one humble man approached me and the drummer of our band. He began to share how he and several others had been praying and fasting for several weeks. Their focus was this service and us! The man handed me several sheets of paper that were filled, front and back, with typed scriptures. He explained how they were praying these scriptures over the service and over us.
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I remember looking over at the drummer and realized it was hitting him as hard as it was hitting me. Tears spilled onto our cheeks. We were unable to hide our surprise and awe as we processed this precious gift. I remember these words bouncing around in my mind, “These men have been praying for me more than I have been praying for them.”
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How was that possible? After all, I was the one who was free. I was the one who could attend church anytime I wanted. I was the one who was able to choose how I would spend my time. These men were convicted felons! They had very few choices. With the little bit of free time they were granted, they chose to spend it on their knees lifting my name and ministry to the Father.
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I cannot begin to tell you how humbled I was.
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To tell you this service was incredible would be a major understatement. It was one of the most powerful services I had ever been involved in.
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I remember being exhausted as we retraced our steps past the heavy, metal gates. I remember inhaling a long, deep breath of freedom as we walked towards our cars. I heard the others talking of where we would go for dinner, but my gaze was on the moon above. I remember looking up at it as if it was the face of God. I promised my God that if it be within my power, I would never allow that scene to take place again. I vowed to pray for those I was ministering to with every possible amount of time I could find to devote.
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That was two years ago. I have kept my word. The result? Every time I have ministered, God has moved in amazing ways. Ways I never dreamed possible. That night in San Quentin was when I experienced my breakthrough and I learned the importance of prayer.