In 2005 I had a dream that changed the course of my life. In the dream, President George W. Bush was seated across from me at a table. He looked me in the eyes and said, “Christina, now that you are finished with school I have a job for you in Washington.”
Source: George W. Bush Presidential Library and Museum
I awoke from the dream intrigued but perplexed. Why was the President beckoning me to the nation’s capital? In reality I’d failed my summer college math class and knew I had to retake it. Yet as random as the dream was, it felt strangely divine.
Shortly after the dream, I got an email from my teacher. Our whole class had performed poorly and—in a stroke of mercy—he curved our grades. I’d passed the class and was now, miraculously, finished with school.
During my last years of college I’d become increasingly pro-life. After over 20 years of silence, my mother confessed to attempting to abort me. She paid for the procedure, but walked out of the hospital when a janitor told her God would give her the strength to carry me.
One day in 2003, a visiting pastor named Lou Engle came to a church near my campus. He preached a message on abortion, the first I’d ever heard. When the meeting ended I introduced myself and told him of my personal rescue. He invited me to join him in Dallas, Texas at a large prayer meeting known as The Call. I convinced two of my friends to fly with me to Texas on Thanksgiving weekend. As we stood in the freezing cold stadium, my burning heart kept me warm.
Lou spoke of the great injustice of abortion and God’s destiny for America. He gave me permission to be as radical for God as I secretly desired. Lou’s faith-filled words convinced me that my prayers could change history.
From 2003 – 2005 I ‘followed’ Lou through teachings on a website called “Elijah Revolution” and a prayer CD that I listened to religiously. When the dream came and school was completed, my distant devotion turned to action. In September of 2005 I left my New England city to take a train to Bowie, Maryland. With zeal in my heart I entered into a 3-month internship with the Justice House of Prayer. Our agenda was to pray and fast for the ending of abortion, for righteous government and for a generation to carry out pro-life acts of justice.
My time in D.C. taught me that God’s ears are attentive to the cries of the righteous. I learned that I was not just an intern, but an intercessor. I uncovered the racist plot of early Planned Parenthood founders to wipe out my African-American people through birth control and abortion. I saw court cases won and prayed alongside governmental leaders. I believed that giants were meant to fall.
If you fast forward 10 years, you’ll see my life has changed. I moved back to the town I left a decade prior. Now, I’m a married woman who is a manager of client services at a Pregnancy Resource Center. I work hard to help abortion-vulnerable women get the love and support they crave. In the past 10 years, I and my fellow interns from 2005 have traveled the world, held numerous jobs, birthed children, started ministries and settled down—in a sense.
The fight for life has been inextricably woven into our own lives. We’ve taken it from an arrow-shaped prayer room near the Supreme Court and carried it into our present work. Our hearts still cry for the pleading of the blood of Christ over our nation. We still long for justice to roll down like waters.
Some of us may no longer stand in front of the Supreme Court wearing pieces of red tape over our mouths, prophesying life. Instead we stand in prayer across the nation. We watch the judges make decisions from our smartphones and listen to their rulings through our TVs.
Our ears are tuned in, our hearts still engaged in the battle. As brave soldiers, we follow the orders of our Heavenly Commander. We went to D.C. to enter into service wholeheartedly—and when our time was up, we returned to civilian affairs.
When we left, others took our place. Ten years later, they are still coming. They come because they heard the same trumpet call that beckoned me. They pray because they still believe God has a dream for America. The fight because, like David, they say: “Is there not a cause?”
When the forts of folly fall, you will find their bodies by the wall.
To all who labored in the years past, Heaven thanks you for your sacrifice. To those who continue to stand before the Highest Court in the land, America will forever be in debt to you.
Can a nation be changed in a day? Only God knows the answer. Yet, I earnestly believe 10 years of prayer is bound to make a difference.