Last week I prayed for my friend, Karla, while we held four small green figs in our hands.  Unusual, but significant for sure.  She had been pondering Hezekiah and Isaiah 38, praying through the struggles of her life, and seeking Father's strength to praise in the midst of them.  The interesting part of the story, hers and Hezekiah's, was the part about the figs.  There was suffering, then crying out, then Father's hand of mercy and grace, then praise, then figs.  Then healing.

God had told Hezekiah when he got sick that he was going to die.  Hezekiah prayed for healing.  God said he would not only heal him but gave him an amazing sign -  He turned back time.  So Hezekiah sang a song of praise.  Then Isaiah told him to make a fig poultice to put on his wound and he would be healed.  In Karla's meditation on this passage and its importance in her own life, she recognized that the solution to the 'illness' of her suffering and struggle was as simple as a fig poultice.  Suffering comes, she cries out, Father speaks mercy and grace to her heart, she praises, then He provides the poultice.  Then she finds healing.  The circumstance and struggle may not change or go away, but the healing comes when she exalts Him in her praise and finds herself trusting in His faithfulness and sovereignty and love. 

It is the same thing Father has been teaching her for a while - simply praise Him.  When she lifts her hands to praise and turns her face toward Him, His healing comes.  Relief comes.  Joy comes.  Perspective comes.  Trust comes.  And the struggles don't seem so big - they are simple boils that can be healed with a fig poultice. 

As we talked about this, Karla shared that there were three specific things she felt she was holding on to and trying to handle by herself. And in holding on to these things, she was not trusting Father to handle them and therefore they were sources of difficulty and struggle.  Father showed us as we talked that when our hands are full of the stuff we are hanging on to, we can't lift our hands to praise very well.  And we certainly can't run to Him as well and we can't throw our arms around Him if our hands are full.  So how can He help us and comfort us and heal us?  This made me think of Jonah 2:8-9 which says, "Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs.  But I, with a song of thanksgiving, will sacrifice to You..."  Jonah understood that if he was holding on to things, he would miss out on God's graciousness in his life.  So he was wiling to sacrifice what he was clinging to, and lift his hands in praise.

Karla had asked me to bring figs to her house because she knew they had significance in what Father was trying to tell her about her struggles.  And she knew I had a fig tree because it has been a source of meditation for me recently.  It was barren this year - until two weeks ago when it had one ripe fig.  Since March I've looked at a barren fig tree and pondered Habakkuk 3:17-18:  "Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD,  I will be joyful in God my Savior."  Yet will I praise.   The tree got buds but a late freeze killed them.  Could I praise?  Then it got leaves but no figs.  Could I praise?  Then I saw that most of the big limbs were dead and needed pruning.  Could I praise?  Then it got some figs but they never ripened.  Could I praise?  And then one day I noticed that in the flower bed in front of the fig tree, the garden stone placed there years ago said "Hope".  Somehow I knew Father was telling me that my life - just like the fig tree - could have hope.  I could praise.  The tree required severe pruning and water and sun and waiting and hoping.  I struggled to praise - but I did praise from time to time.  And then, just before the coolness of fall came to steal away the leaves and green figs, I saw a ripe fig - which I picked and showed to Karla and her husband before I ate it.  It was tiny but it was sweet... Yet will I praise.  I found three more ripe figs among the green ones the next week and ate them all right off the tree.  Yet will I praise!  Me and my fig tree - Karla - Hezekiah - first suffering, then crying out, then Father's hand of mercy and grace, then praise, then figs.  Then healing.

As I prayed for Karla, she placed the little green figs I had brought in her hand.  I placed my hand over them.  Spirit directed my prayers through each one of the things she had said she was holding on to and as I prayed about each one, Spirit directed me to remove a fig from her hand.  When I finished praying, she had one little green fig left in her hand and she let it go, too.  Her hands were free to be lifted to Him in praise. 

My fig tree is now dropping leaves and there are no figs - not even green ones.  Soon it will be nothing but limbs.  But I have hope for it to bear fruit next year.  What if it doesn't?  Yet will I praise.

In our conversation after the prayer, Karla and I talked about how Father had taken her to Isaiah 35.  It is a fig poultice for the soul.  I can't help but praise as I read it.  Oh, I will praise!!!  Will you?

Isaiah 35

 1 The desert and the parched land will be glad;
       the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
       Like the crocus, 2 it will burst into bloom;
       it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
       The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,
       the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;
       they will see the glory of the LORD,
       the splendor of our God. 
 3 Strengthen the feeble hands,
       steady the knees that give way; 
 4 say to those with fearful hearts,
       "Be strong, do not fear;
       your God will come,
       he will come with vengeance;
       with divine retribution
       he will come to save you."
5 Then will the eyes of the blind be opened
       and the ears of the deaf unstopped.
6 Then will the lame leap like a deer,
       and the mute tongue shout for joy.
       Water will gush forth in the wilderness
       and streams in the desert.
7 The burning sand will become a pool,
       the thirsty ground bubbling springs.
       In the haunts where jackals once lay,
       grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.
8 And a highway will be there;
       it will be called the Way of Holiness.
       The unclean will not journey on it;
       it will be for those who walk in that Way;
       wicked fools will not go about on it.
9 No lion will be there,
       nor will any ferocious beast get up on it;
       they will not be found there.
       But only the redeemed will walk there,
10 and the ransomed of the LORD will return.
       They will enter Zion with singing;
       everlasting joy will crown their heads.
       Gladness and joy will overtake them,
       and sorrow and sighing will flee away.

Amy