Dave Walker, Author at Scribewalker

Praying for and Praying with

By Dave Walker | February 23, 2020 | Comments 2 comments

We were in the supermarket the other day, when a bent and wizened old lady approached us. She muttered through a mouth that had few teeth, “Please pray for me.”

She then poured out a litany of problems with her family that so burdened her to the extent she was prepared to confide in complete strangers.

We listened, and when she had finished, I said, “Well, let’s pray right now.”

She looked surprised, and, I think a little shocked that we should pray in such a public place, but she consented, so we stood in the supermarket and prayed. As we did so, the peace of God rested on her. You could see her countenance change and she thanked us profusely.

Different dynamics

I have found there is a completely different dynamic in praying for someone and praying with someone. If I have the choice, I’d sooner pray with a person any time. When one prays for a person, at best, the person is a passive recipient of someone else approaching God. When one prays with them, they are included in coming to the Throne of Grace. At worst, they are witnesses to your intimacy with God. At best, they experience that intimacy themselves.

Opening the gates of Heaven

Sometimes our prayer opens the gates of heaven in a very special way that touches hearts supernaturally. Early on in my Christian walk, I befriended Emmanuel, a wonderful Black man and we had glorious times of prayer together. Usually this was during the day, in a church or other public place, but one day I suggested we meet together at his house. It was in the dark days of apartheid; in my ignorance, I didn’t appreciate the peril for a White man to enter an African township at night. There was a real danger I would not return alive. It was dark before I reached the township and soon I was hopelessly lost in the maze of unmarked dirt roads. I stopped a passerby and asked for directions.

“Give me a lift to my house and I’ll give instructions from there,” he said.

On the way, I told him I was going to pray with Emmanuel and he said, “Can you pray for me?” I agreed..

When we arrived, I said, “So shall we pray?”

He looked surprised. “What, now?” I nodded.

Then, though it was late at night, he woke his wife and children and called them into the main room. As they knelt and I prayed, the power of God and a tangible peace descended. The heavens were open to that little family. Everyone was hushed with awe. We were afraid to move. Eventually I had to get to Emmanuel, but my helper would not let me go until I had given him my contact details and put him in contact with my beloved friend.

How different it would have been if I had just said, “Okay, I’ll pray for you.”

God’s opportunities are there

Don’t throw away an opprtunity to pray with someone in need. Apart from anything else, it sometimes opens the door for conversations about God with people who have questions.

Before Christmas and Beyond

By Dave Walker | December 17, 2019 | Comments 0 Comment

The wonder never ends

At this time of the year we are used to seeing the Babe in the manger. It is always a time when we can be thrilled with the wonder of it all.

Yet, think of it beforehand. Think of the Holy Foetus attached to Mary’s womb, gaining succour from a placenta that was to become the afterbirth. This is God? That tiny, budding life? How amazing is that?

Then, think of the wonder beyond the stable and the Babe to the Man, the very Word of God, who spoke all He walked amongst into being. Now he debates with sceptics and arrogant men of learning, allowing them to deride Him, mock Him and scorn His words that came from the same mouth that created them.

And the wonder goes on through Calvary, the empty tomb and the free gift of eternal life offered, incredibly without any obligation to accept it.

We do, indeed have an amazing God.

Amazing

The body of God
Forming slowly
A clump of cells
A tiny brain
Eyes
Fingers
Mouth
Cord, placenta
God, two inches long
Drawing nourishment from Mary
Amazing.

The Word of God
Speaking light
Speaking earth
Speaking sea
And stars
The moon
Lilies of the field
And man
Speaking all of creation into being
Now debating with sceptics
Contradicted
Ignored
Vilified
Amazing

The love of God
Selfless
Giving
Healing
Joyous love
Exploited
Doubted
Denied
Nailed to a Cross
And there, fully expressed
Amazing

The blood of God
Falling to the ground
Earth-shattering
Veil-splitting
Blood
A scarlet ribbon
Rippling through eternity
Buying freedom
For you
For me
Changing history
Letting the eyes of God
Meet mine
And yours, if you will
Amazing

The power of God
Life-giving
Stone-moving
Heaven-opening
Glorifying
Power
Available to all who believe
Amazing

Free choice for man
A gift from God
Setting his destiny
Light
Or darkness
Loneliness
Or comfort
Life
Or death
God’s favour
Or wrath
God lets us choose
Respects our choice

Choose light
Comfort
Life
Choose God
And stand amazed

Listen to the Music

By Dave Walker | November 10, 2019 | Comments 0 Comment

Inspirational short stories

After a delay while I had stents put into my coronary arteries and looked after a four-year-old step grandson for 10 days — a full time occupation with no time for anything else — I’m very proud to announce that my new book is in print — electronically and as a paperback.

You’ll find it on Amazon or

There is something in music that causes a surge in the heart of the listener, causing emotions that fluctuate as the music varies. A good story, well written can do that, too.

In this book, I’ve written award winning stories that will put a song in your heart, like music. Whether you find your spirit soaring like an eagle with inspiring true stories such as that of Father Damien in “Plundering a Hell on Earth”, challenged with fictitious tales containing eternal truths, such as “I Did it My Way”, weeping at the tragedy of a senseless war in “Scorched Earth, Seared Soul” or tenderly touched by the love of two women in “To Mary, and Mary”, each story will strike a chord that brings you to Jesus, or challenges your walk with Him in some way.

Listen to the music that stirs within you as you read, and you will hear God speak to you.

For the next two weeks the book is on promotion for 99c. If you buy it from Smashwords, you’ll need to quote a coupon, which is NM27P.

This is an extract from someone who previewed it:

“Loved the book! It was a real treasure trove of vignettes, little polished gems that keep me digging for more. I wept on several occasions at the beauty of your language and the emotions you evoked.”

Here’s a sample:

The Mocking

            At the cathedral exit, Jacques paused and looked at his friend. “Wait here. I’m going back to shock the priest out of his cassock!” Turning back to the aisle, he made his way towards the confessional.
            Jacques and Mario were touring the world and having a blast. Cathedral tours were not usually included with the beaches, night clubs and extreme sports, but this one was supposed to be famous. Jacques found it ornate, cold and otherworldly. He needed to inject some fun.
            Drawing back the curtain of the confessional, he sat down. “Father, I have sinned,” he said in a contrite voice.
            “Nothing is beyond God’s forgiveness, my son. Please confess your sins.”
            Jacques, his imagination at full sway, recited in lurid detail, stories of every abominable sin he could think of. He had murdered, he said, fornicated, cheated, lied, blasphemed and betrayed. Finally he stopped, waiting for a response.
            After a silence the priest spoke up in deep, clear tones. Was there a slight mocking? Had he seen the prank?
            “My son, you have much to repent of. This is the penance: At the life-size crucifix overlooking the chapel to your right, look into the face of the statue of Jesus hanging on the cross and repeat ten times, “Jesus, you are hanging there for all I’ve done and I don’t care.” Then, with the hint of a smile in his voice, he said, “Do not let the game end here. Carry it through to the end.”
            So he DID know. Oh well, Jacques would accept the dare.
            He found the crucifix easily. He never understood this Jesus thing. Why did people make so much fuss about a man on a cross improbably taking our sins? Was the story true? It seemed unlikely. Uncertainly, he started. “Jesus, you are hanging there for all I’ve done and I don’t care. Jesus, you are hanging there for all I’ve done and I don’t care.” Gaining confidence, he made it part of the fun. Beating his breast in mock despair, in a cracked voice he called, “Jesus, you’re hanging there for all I’ve done,” then he straightened himself, looked defiantly at the statue’s face and spat out the words, “and I don’t care.” He tried looking him in the eye, daring him to flinch, “Jesus, you’re hanging there for all I’ve done and I don’t care.” There, that was four times. Six to go.
            On the seventh time, as he looked into that face, he noticed, for the first time, how the thorns of the crown pierced the skin of his forehead, causing blood to trickle down into his eye. Inexplicably, he felt an urge to wipe it away. “This is silly. It’s only a statue!”
            The next time, his eyes wandered to the hands fiercely impaled with large, rough nails. Again he noticed the blood trickling, this time, from the palms to halfway along his arms before forming drops that hung, about to fall. “Jesus, you’re … you’re hanging there … for all I’ve done, and ….. and I don’t care.” He forced the words out. “I am just talking to a statue.” Why, then was he feeling so emotional about it? He looked back at the face. Those eyes; they seemed to know what he was saying and yet remained with that same compassionate look. Of course they would. They were the eyes of a statue. And yet…. what if it depicted a real person?
            Two to go. He started, “Jesus, you’re hanging there for all I’ve done and…. and… ” He felt his knees shaking, then giving way. On his knees he started sobbing, “and I DO care, Jesus. I’m not that callous. Or maybe I am. I am sorry. I am so sorry that you had to do this for us. Why do you love us so much? How could I not care, Jesus, when YOU care so much? Forgive me, please. I don’t ever want to willingly do anything that makes me more responsible for your suffering.”
            As he knelt before the cross, a tangible peace flooded his soul. Through his tear-filled eyes he half-imagined Jesus coming off that cross, laying a forgiving hand on his shoulder. And he felt clean; for the first time he could remember, he felt washed from the inside out. He looked up and saw the man-God behind the statue. He also saw, in every repeat of his own mocking another reason for those brutal nails. And, born again, he wept.
(This is based on a true story)

My new book is coming

By Dave Walker | October 23, 2019 | Comments 0 Comment

Listen to your heart

THE JOURNEY OF A LIFETIME

Here I am again, back to the familiar where nothing’s changed. I see I left a shirt on the bed and crockery drip-drying by the sink.

It seems incredible that this place — this home — should be just as I left it, when God’s light is rampant on earth. And I’ve been part of it. What a journey! It was a spur of the moment decision, but the best I’ve ever made. I teamed up with Theo, and we just decided we’d take a road at random and see what village it led to.

The wiry old man sitting outside his house had half a dozen children playing at his feet. That gave us an opening.

“Are those your grandchildren, old man?” I asked.

His face softened and his eyes brightened as they wandered, first to them and then to us.

“All of them,” he said.

Theo joined in. “Children are so trusting.”

The laughter lines creased around his eyes. “They come to me with anything.”

“Did you know that’s the way we must enter the Kingdom of Heaven?”

The old man stiffened; his face suddenly hard. “Trust God like the children trust me?” He looked at the ground, frowning. “No. You see, I’ve had experience, which these children haven’t had.” His eyes misted over. “I know what it’s like to pray to God and have a silent heaven.”

It was my turn. “Will you tell us about it?”

He stood up. “Come. I’ll show you.”

He opened the gate and ushered us into his home, leading us to a room at the back. On the way, we heard cries and the pounding of heels on the floor. He opened the door a fraction and bade us look. In the middle of the room tied to a pole that was fixed to the floor was — what was it — an animal? No, although like a crazed beast, its eyes burned with fury, the head swayed back and forth and the heels drummed up and down, up and down while it wrenched at the ropes holding it to the post. It was barely recognisable as a young girl, tormented and crazed by a thousand demons.

Closing the door, the old man took us to his sitting room. “That’s Lydia. I’ve prayed to God day and night for my grandchild, but He’s not listening.” The tears glistened on his lined face. “Can you see why I cannot trust Him as a little child?”

I glanced at Theo and saw his face shine. “Sir, God has heard your prayer. His timing is perfect. He wants you to know about His Messiah. He’s come to save us from our sins and deliver us from the oppression of the Evil One.”

He told him the good news of Jesus, the Messiah. On finishing, he said, “Now, take us to Lydia.”

It was our first taste of the power Jesus gave us. With screeching and a stench that filled the house, the demons fled. Lydia’s eyes softened, her face transformed and she spoke to her grandfather in a voice as sweet and clear as a mountain stream. “Thank you, Grandpa for praying so earnestly for me.” She smiled as she held the weeping, trembling old man. That evening we preached to a packed house. Lydia, had waltzed around the village in a dance of joy, spreading the good news. The Kingdom of God permeated the whole village as we stayed at the old man’s home preaching, teaching, healing the sick and driving out demons in the Name of Jesus.

Then we moved to the next village and the scene was repeated as we used Jesus’ strategy, staying in people’s homes and ministering from there. (Luke 10:7) We’d never experienced such power.

Finally, after filling village after village with the light of God, we reported back to Jesus. “Even the demons obeyed us!” we exclaimed with excitement. The other seventy disciples had similar stories. (Luke 10:17)

But Jesus warned us, “Don’t get carried away with the power I’ve given you. Remember from whence it came and rejoice that God has chosen you to be with Him.” (Luke 10:20) It was a sober lesson. I admit, the power had gone to my head a little.

And now, my little home, it’ll be good to sleep in my own bed with familiar things around me, but then I’ll have to say goodbye to you. You see, there’s a Messiah who has no place to lay His head (Luke 9:58) and I’ll be following Him wherever He goes.

As a Little Child

By Dave Walker | October 7, 2019 | Comments 0 Comment

Seeing through the eyes of a child

Whew, what a week! We have our four year old grandson with us and it is hectic. I’d forgetten what it is like to have a little child in the house.

But it’s fun, and full of lessons about our walk with our heavenly Father.

For one thing, everything around him inspires wonder.

As adults we get so used to the miracles that surround us each day that we miss the wonder of it all. Yet the intricate way in which the weavers in our garden weave their nests, the tiny buds that form on branches, long bare and barren through the winter months, the way a little insect knows to scurry away as I put a finger near are all wonders of God’s creation.

Even though there might be scientific explanations for all these things, it in no way detracts from the marvel. The laws themselves, dreamed up by God from nothing, should inspire awe.

Then, my little grandson’s every second sentence is punctuated by “Why?”

“Why does this come apart?”

“So we can clean this bit and not the bit with the engine.”

“Why?”

“Because water will stop the engine working.”

“Why?”

And so on ad infinitum.

But without a clue about electricity, how does one explain about water shorting the works?

It makes me realise that God probably has the same problem with us. How often, with our very limited understanding of the true nature of things, do we ask the question “Why, God?”

That probably explains why He seldom answers the question, but graces us with His presence, His comfort and His love. As I say, in God in the ICU:

“There is a deep mystery in suffering. Nowhere does God say He will protect us from it. What He does promise, however is that He will walk with us through it.. Many people, having experienced great suffering through bereavement, persecution, financial hardship or illness testify that those were the times they felt closest to God.”

That’s usually how He answers our question, “Why?” and sometimes (often, actually), I just have to do the same with my grandson.