Called to pray–for him?

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In the picture, they’re gathered around, arms reaching. Some hands are lifted in supplication, and others are touching a man. In the center. The one in the middle of the group. And a voice, it’s raising in prayer…

It’s early in the morning. In the darkness, my slumbering mind stirs, awakens. Like a diver swimming up from the deep, consciousness dawns, and I realize that I have been dreaming.

About a gathering of high school kids. Apparently, they’ve been listening to a speaker (an assembly?), and before the man leaves, they’ve gathered to lay hands on him and pray. A boy, dream-faceless, is leading those assembled in prayer. For the man, the one in the center.

And the man in the center was once a president.

Wakening, now, his name, his face are right smack dab in my head. In my heart, and Papa’s Spirit, He’s whisp’ring, “That man, he doesn’t know Love.” 

Huh. How odd. A dream with the strangest impression. “No love. Doesn’t know Love.”

In full day’s light, I’m driving to town on my way to a meeting, and the whisper, it sounds yet again. “That man has never known real love.”

I’m listening. And then I do what I know to do even though it feels wild and crazy.

I pray. For this man who once was a president.

Of all the presidents in modern history, he was one I liked least. I was critical. From a great distance, I’d judged him. Despised him. Detested. And I surely did this one thing more–I wrote him off.

I did, feeling that he was past saving. Past redemption, this man who doesn’t know Love.

So I begin to pray from a heart that has softened, “Papa, show him Your love. Jesus, have compassion. Show him Your mercy. Don’t let him die without knowing Your love.”

I’m seeing him now with the eyes of the Savior, the One who died even for him. Who went down to hell for the last, lost and least; took the keys from satan himself.

He did it for you. He did it for me, and He did it (I remember) for that man.

I know this seems unlikely. I know it sounds crazy, but if the Spirit is calling me to pray, then I’ll pray.

I want God to show him His love. I want Christ to redeem him. I want this politician to know Love.

As He’s done for you and for me.

God, as Peter said, “is no respecter of persons.” And then he added this, too, that God is not slow in keeping His promise, but “is patient, not wanting anyone to perish, but that all will come to repentance (2 Pet. 3:9).”

How kind is the Lord. How loving, persistent. He pursued you, and He’s pursued me. And I know He’s pursuing another. So I’ll pray.