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I was thirty-five years old when I received some of the best advice in my life.

It was not solicited, nor was it expected. But on the certain Sunday, fifteen years ago, my messenger arrived with a very personal word of instruction…

I was sitting in my church, minding my own business, ready to be dismissed when by leaps and bounds she came; literally. Eyes focused on me; she pushed her way through the crowd. I knew she was coming for me and quite frankly I didn’t know whether to stay put or run for my life!

I looked and there was nowhere to go, nothing to shamefully distract me, and no one to hide behind. What was a girl to do?

I was the target of a mission. A holy one at that.

Funny, as I look back, it was the fight or flight syndrome that ensued, yet when the Lord decides you are His mark, there is nowhere to run and there is nowhere to hide.

Time to put your big girl panties on.

She made her way to me and said, I have been praying for you and I have something to tell you.

Oh my. I wasn’t ready. ‘Cause deep in my gut I knew things were about to change.

I was a target of a holy mission.

So here it was…ready or not the arrow had been released.

“For the next six months, pray God’s will for your life. Nothing else. Got it? Nothing…”

It hit me hard. That arrow went straight for the heart; mine. It hit its mark, for the piercing pain when it did, screamed of change.

I had to sit for a moment.

And then, I smiled. I smiled as if nothing hurt. I smiled as if this wrecking ball really didn’t shatter my dreams. I smiled, and said, “okay, I will”…

The rest of that Sabbath day, I wrung my hands just as my heart had been wrung.  I did not know what to do…I could argue, I could ignore, I could simplify, or I could submit to that arrow and the pain.

I was the target of a holy mission.

But that night, I got down on my knees and said these words…

“I pray God’s will for my life”.

That’s all I could muster up. A tiny, little, feeble, weak prayer. My heart wasn’t even in it.

For the next, oh, I don’t know; maybe three months, that is all I prayed. Just those measly seven words.

There was power in those seven words. Power. There was change in those seven words. Change.

I am forever grateful for the woman, the message, the mission.

I am forever grateful that He chose to make me His target.

And I found there is no greater prayer than that tiny, little, feeble, weak, seven word prayer.

Are you brave?

Do you have courage?

Would you like your best life?

Then consider yourself a target of a holy mission.

I will be the messenger.

Pray God’s will for your life. Nothing else. Got it? Nothing….

Get ready for incredible New Year!

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