Decades ago, I was participating in an all-night prayer meeting, "bombarding the gates of heaven." I remember beating the wall and yelling, "God, if You loved the people in Arlington, Texas, half as much as I do, we'd have revival!" Immediately, my lightning-fast mind realized that something was seriously wrong with my theology. What was I thinking? Did I really believe I loved these people more than God did? No, not exactly. Like many Christians, I believed God was angry with the human condition, and it was up to me to turn Him from wrath and judgment. I was interceding, or so I thought, pleading with God on the behalf of others. What could possibly be wrong with that?
Not long ago, I got a personal prophecy from a prophet. You may be thinking, wait a minute, I thought you were a prophet. Why are you getting a prophetic word from another prophet? Well, the truth is I still look for confirmation and insight into what I may not be seeing or things God already told me. In any case, I got a prophecy from a prophet, and he told me something God is about to do. It was confirmation on something I knew God needed to do and something I have been praying for. So, I accepted the prophetic word with joy.
Smith Wigglesworth was a great preacher. But before he was a preacher, he was a plumber who wasn't a Christian—nor a very nice man. Fortunately for him, he had a godly wife. He didn't want her to go to church, but she went anyway. When she did, he'd lock her out of the house, and when she came home, she'd have to sleep on the back porch. In the morning he'd unlock the door and she'd come in and say, "Good morning, Smithy!" and make him breakfast. She was a godly example for him. She prayed for him and God gave her the grace to be good to him in spite of his rude behavior.