My Name is Precious

It was our last stop on the Idaho Rivers Prayer Journey, the Duck Valley Reservation in Nevada.  There we were scheduled to meet with several Native Americans and seek their permission to pray for their territory. For the past seven days, from morning ‘til night, we had been praying over the people and the land in the states in and around Idaho.  But today we were in for a surprise.  On this day Pastors Hilliard and Elena Smith, Josie and Patti brought us into their little church, fed us a lunch they had prepared, and told our group of seven intercessors that they were going to pray for us.

They took us one by one, laid their hands on us and prayed and prophesied over each of us.  For me, this experience was the pinnacle of the journey.  It was as if God was giving these loving people a glimpse into my heart.  Elena seemed to know things about me that could only come from God’s revelation.  Then she and the others took what God had showed them and prayed with love and fervor for God’s blessing on my life.  I wept like a baby, enfolded in Elena’s arms, and the Fathers’.

Hilliard and Elena’s grandchildren were there in the church that day, playing as we prayed.  Their little granddaughter was adorable, with her soft brown skin and long ponytails. I asked her grandparents for her name and was told, “Precious”. 

I smiled.  What a perfect name for such a sweet little girl.  Then I thought the Father was saying something in my heart.  This little one playing in the church was not the only “Precious”.  The Father was saying, “That is what I call all of my children.”  We were treated like precious children in that place, honored, fed, hugged, blessed, encouraged. We were given a new name that day. We were called Precious.

                    photo courtesy of Jim Spaloss, Spaloss Studios, copyright August, 2013