I stayed way longer than I had planned. It happened more and more often to an increasing number of people as they visited the 24-7 prayer room for those ten days in March .
Step across the threshold and the clock seems to run on a different time. The sense of his presence is somehow nearer. Prayer comes easier. God speaks more clearly. The prophetic is unlocked. Fresh passion for Jesus is released. There are rumours of angelic visitations. Testimonies of healings in the church services.
Sometimes we need to pinch ourselves.
To remember that what God is doing is nothing short of miraculous.
When a seventeen year old member of the youth group decides that he is going to get up in the middle of the night and make his own way across London at 1am and be a "watchman on the walls" for two hours. When someone who works in a high powered high pressure job in the city books a slot in the prayer room on her way home from a fifteen hour day. When the mother of small children takes them into the prayer room with her so that they encounter the love of Jesus as well, rather than going by herself. When the students book a whole night of prayer you know something is up. God is doing something.
He is stirring his bride. He is awakening his people.
In a shabby green portacabin in a car park that somehow becomes a holy place.
You see it on their faces as they leave. You hear it in the stories they tell. You read on the heartfelt prayers scrawled and the paintings exhibited on the walls.
The message is loud and clear.
God has visited us.
We have had close encounters with the almighty.
And we will never be the same again.