Discovering the Institutionalization of God’s People

If I could give it a name, I would call it the miracle at the mall.

As I stood in line waiting at a department store in the mall, a young lady suddenly collapsed just a few feet away from me. In that very moment, the first thing I thought to do was pray. Then, of course, that paralyzing fear I had of praying in public stopped me from even letting out a whimper to God.

I had been accustomed to prayer all my life. I knew how to pray—just not in public. I had seen what prayer had done for others and knew what it could do for her. But was she worth the possibility of me feeling the shame of facing the giant of going against the script this godless, Babylonian society handed to young women my age? People aren’t supposed to pray in malls. Or are there special occasions when it would be deemed necessary and seen as normal—such as this one?

I had been trained to pray, but only asked to do so in church or within the confinement of my own private space, away from others.

But she was still lying there, and life was leaving her body quickly. She had been without a heartbeat for minutes, and each second without it counted against her brain’s ability to function. We all know when blood stops pumping to the brain, so does oxygen.

I had to make a decision, because she was still lying there, and we were getting closer to tragedy.

I made my way to the front of the checkout line and began to silently whisper prayers for healing and deliverance—just loud enough for me to hear the words come out of my mouth. In Jesus’ name.

It wasn’t even three minutes from the start of that prayer when, after ten minutes of being laid out on the floor lifeless, the young woman miraculously got up as if nothing had ever happened. As if there weren't fifteen people standing around her yelling for her to open her eyes.

I heard her friend say she had a heart condition that causes her to pass out. I understood the situation and silently hoped that God would heal her condition so she wouldn’t find herself in that moment ever again.

After she got up and walked back toward the entrance to leave, the EMTs came in with their tools and asked her if she wanted medical assistance. She said no—and walked right past them.

God’s Holy Spirit got there before they did, and she was alright.

I was challenged to come out of hiding as a believer and demonstrate my faith in God by walking up to an absolute stranger, standing as close to her as I could, and going against the status quo by praying for her in a public setting. It was not as easy for me as you might think it should have been.

I realized—I was an institutionalized Christian.

To better understand what it means to be institutionalized, think of prisoners who spend many years in prison and can no longer adapt to the new society they’re released into. They realize it’s nothing like the one they left before they were locked away for years—or even decades, in some cases.

Like an eagle taken out of its natural habitat, they have been isolated from their natural environment and shaped into total dependency on whomever has them held captive. They lose their ability to hunt live prey using stealth, speed, and timing, their natural courtship flights, nest building, and chick rearing. They also lose their ability to patrol and defend large territories—among a plethora of other abilities you would normally find in eagles that live in the wild.

Jesus was uncaged. He traveled and performed miracles in and out of season—on land, on water, against time, space, and even the natural laws of physics.

He commanded nature itself to go against the laws of time, as evidenced in Matthew 21:19:

“And when he saw a fig tree in the way, he came to it, and found nothing thereon, but leaves only, and said unto it, ‘Let no fruit grow on thee henceforward forever.’ And presently the fig tree withered away.”

Jesus wasn’t waiting on the fig tree to produce during its season. He had a need that only a fig tree could meet, and it refused to produce when it mattered the most.

If Jesus said in John 14:12:

“He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto my Father,”

Then why aren’t we seeing miracles more often?

Psalm 137:1–4 states:

“By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof. For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion.’ How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?”

There are rules and regulations for how we are supposed to conduct ourselves wherever we go. Blasting the gospel in a gang-infested neighborhood at 2 a.m. is not wisdom—unless God specifically instructs one to do so.

On that same token, I have also never heard anyone in an emergency situation say, “Satan, help me.”It’s always Jesus.

People want the help of God, and as representatives of Christ, it’s our job to show them the way to Him. They need God to intervene in their situation. People are counting on us to be the church—whether we are inside of a church building or in a hospital with onlookers staring at us.

The church must move away from institutionalizing people through storing and hoarding, and instead stir up the gifts in them. Teach yourself—and others—how to use the gift God placed in you as you are led, in and out of season. If God is going to get the glory in this world, it will be because we were not only hearers but doers of His Word.

Jesus’ faith is unrivaled. He is the Son of God. His courage and bravery astonished all who were privileged to see Him work miracles in public spaces. His love remains unmatched by man. We can’t be Him, but we can be like Him.

1 John 4:4

"Ye are of God, little children, and have overcome them: because greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world."

— Tina Pressley, Readers Inspiration