More than Enough

     I started working at the church about 6 years ago as the temporary worship leader. It was a big transition to go from Stay home mom to working woman. Lydia, my youngest was just four years old, but she had started pre-school that year so I felt peace about starting a new chapter of my life.

    I would call this chapter “the dream.” From the first time I stood up on a Sunday morning to sing a special in church when I was 16 years-old, I had hoped for a chance to sing for the Lord as a career. But saying yes to the fill-in position was still a challenge. Our previous Worship Pastor had a great reputation and had worked for 17 years at the church. He left huge shoes to fill, and I wasn’t convinced I could succeed.

     In November of 2010, I starting my temporary position diving in completely at a quick pace. I found it hard to juggle this new passion with a young family and my husband’s ministry responsibilities, but the excitement was my fuel for success. Even in the thrill of the new, a pattern started to form. I was constantly faced with my limitations on the job and at home. How does a working mom do it all?

     One of my daughters was showing signs of food allergies, so at home, we cut out gluten and dairy in the cooking menu. At work, I was spending hours to try to resemble the previous Worship leader’s style of leading and trying to also find my own style of leadership. On Wednesday nights when Brad was preaching, I found myself preoccupied with my own workload instead of connecting with students. My dream didn’t come without its challenges, as dreams in this world rarely do.

     In the fall of 2011, our Pastor had stopped pursuing Worship Director applicants and turned to me. After ten months I was finally in the running for the position.  I would have been thrilled except my mother was gravely ill. All the symptoms pointed to cancer, and in her weakness, she even hoped for a diagnosis. I began to pray.

“Lord, if you want me to have this job, I can’t take it if my mother has cancer. I couldn’t handle it, Lord will you heal her?”

Was I bargaining with God? Maybe, but it was more of a cry than a deal. I had never felt more vulnerable in those moments of prayer. Meanwhile, on Sunday mornings I put on the happy face and led worship by God’s grace.

    In early October I was the guest worship leader at a women’s conference in Cedar Falls, Iowa. On that Friday afternoon, before the conference began, my mom had asked me to accompany her to the cancer treatment center for her diagnosis appointment. Trying to show her support and be braver than I felt, I agreed.

    Sitting in the waiting room I felt sick to my stomach as tears were pressing, but with deep breaths, I kept them at bay. On the wall, there were professional pictures of men and women cancer patients posed beautifully with their families. Though the images spoke of strength and dignity fear crept into my mind, so I looked away from the decor.

“Oh Lord, hear my cry that my mother would live and not die but would proclaim the works of the Lord,” I whispered to the heavenly ears that interpret the cries of the heart.

“Gerri Tullis” the nurse called flatly.

    Slowly my fatigued mother rose from her chair leaning on my Father’s arm as I followed like a helpless child behind them. But even now I hoped for a miracle, some kind of Good Report. We were led to a small sterile blue room. As we sat, waiting, I prayed out loud. “Dear Lord, we ask you for the Good Report of the Lord to be released over mom today, Amen.”

     Soon a grave woman in her fifties came into the room with my mother’s chart. She held the results of the tests to determine the future plan of action. Standing before us she angrily declared that my mother’s tests for all cancers came back negative. Slamming down the chart she continued to state in frustration that my mom also didn’t appear to have the autoimmune disease they suspected. Stunned, my mother sat in her chair trying to process this report as the doctor declared she could not help my mother any further.

     Did we just receive the Good Report of the Lord? Or was I just having wishful thinking? As we left the cancer treatment center that day my mother felt overwhelmed. She had hoped for an answer, but she walked away still sick with no breakthrough.

     I led worship that night for the women’s conference with my frail mother sitting in the audience. In her fatigue, she was a shell of the former woman who had just celebrated her fortieth wedding anniversary the previous April. I sang songs about faith, healing, and the favor of God fueled by the hope that God can still do the impossible.

     The following day after the last teaching session we gathered at tables to pray together in small groups. At my table, my mom and I sat across from a sweet little older lady. After the closing prayer was shared from the front of the Sanctuary we stood to leave. The older woman of about seventy years said goodbye to us and turned to leave when she instead turned back around to face us. Though she stood at around five feet tall she suddenly appeared much taller as she declared with authority over my mother from Psalm 118:17, “You Shall live and not die but will proclaim the works of the Lord.”

     Suddenly my mother fell to the ground and began to shake as the woman continued to pray and prophecy over her. Other ladies came to pray with her over my mom. In that moment it was like the heavens opened up and ministering angels were lifting off all of the sicknesses. The winds of prayer rose as we all cried out for mom. I fell to my knees with tears streaming down my face as I felt the peace of God lifting the heavy burden of death off of my mother.The woman then turned to me and began to pray over my worship ministry. I could feel the power of God giving me the courage to step out in faith to pursue "the Dream."

     After a time the prayer ended, and my mom sat up. She looked as if she was rising from a refreshing nap. She offered to drive herself back to her home in nearby Waterloo. As she drove she felt better than she had in months. When we arrived at home she put the kettle on for some tea while we sat down to talk. It was like I was sitting with the “well” mom. For the first time in months, she was able to talk about living. I sat mesmerized by the transformation in her.

“Mom,” I asked, “What did you see when that woman was praying for you?”

      She sat quietly for a moment then with eyes glowing vibrantly she said, “As she prayed I saw a million little lights surrounding my body and then touching every part until I felt whole again.”

     As we had tea and talked on, I felt as if God had given me a most precious gift, divine healing for my mother. It was there at that table that I felt the peace to receive the job as worship director at our church. I knew God was going to take care of my mom, and that he would also help me.

    Driving home to Cedar Rapids that afternoon I sang, “I believe that your my healer, I believe you are all I need…” No matter what challenges my home life created with serving a young family. No matter what challenges church created with both Brad and I in ministry. I knew I could confidently declare: “Jesus, you are more than enough for me.”