Hello dear readers!
I want to let you all know that I am moving my blog over to my new website.
https://lighthasdawned.squarespace.com
I'm super excited for this new site as I can see it giving me more freedom in my writing and open up more opportunities.
If you want to subscribe to my new blog…
- Go to the blog page of my site - https://lighthasdawned.squarespace.com/blog/
- Scroll down on the left hand side to where it says SUBSCRIBE.
- Type in your email and press the SUBSCRIBE button.
- Type in the verification code.
- An message will be sent to your email inbox and ask for you to click the link to verify your subscription.
Oila!!!
Thank you all for reading my blog! I hope you will continue to follow my writing and my journey.
Blessings!
Ellie
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Friday, January 24, 2014
Will you follow me?
It was a beautiful day in South America; the brilliant sun that you find when living right on the earth's equator, beat directly upon me. I was laying in a pretty little spot behind my house in Quito, Ecuador, in a walled up garden in the middle of a 3 million person city. I needed the reprieve that garden had to offer. I needed the shelter of those walls. My emotions felt so exposed to this harsh world. The nearness of cruel reality was trying to swallow me whole.
It was there in the grass that I tried to process through what I was feeling and experiencing...
Earlier that day I sat with 20 little girls who were the victims of this cruel reality. Every one of them had been preyed upon by the dark souls of men. Sold into slavery, they had become subject to a living hell of having to sell their tiny bodies. And now, miraculously, they found themselves rescued out of the place of daily physical oppression. But were they really rescued? Were they not still slaves to torment? Were they not still oppressed by the darkness within themselves?
From the first day I met these broken yet beautiful souls, I struggled with this impossible question - what do I have to offer?
What do you say to someone so buried by pain you can't even see them when you look into their eyes? How can you express love through a hug when touch means absolutely nothing?
That morning I had held one of those precious ones in my arms, trying to break through to the spirit that was so hopelessly lost somewhere deep within herself. Tears slowly rolled down her dark little face, yet there was no emotion in her eyes. She didn't fight me holding her, yet neither did she respond to the love I offered, sitting there limp and lifeless like a used up dish-rag.
What do you do with that?
So I retreated to the garden, trying not to succumb to the despair I felt growing inside of me. Emotionally exhausted, I sprawled myself out on the grass, hoping for some alleviation from my turmoil. As I lay there, I felt Jesus come to me and say, "Ellie, I want to take you somewhere."
I was then with Him. We were both mounted on horses, standing on the ledge of a cliff overlooking an infinite valley. This valley was as far as the eye could see. A complete wasteland. No living thing to be found. And strewn across this valley was utter carnage. It was an unimaginable scene. A complete blood-bath. A holocaust unlike anything the earth had ever experienced. Bodies lay everywhere, not just covering the land, but covering the land in layers. There was not a single patch of land that was not covered in blood, filth and distorted flesh.
"Ellie, will you follow me?" Jesus asked the question I most dreaded to hear. I followed his gaze down towards the base of the cliff where there stood a vast and terrible gate. This was the gate of hell. So He wants to storm through the gate of hell? I couldn’t imagine how on earth we would be able to save them all, but I knew that I trusted Jesus. So yes, I would follow Him.
We started making our way down a path that was carved into the side of the cliff. It’s hard to call it a path, because it was more like a random connection of vertical rock faces hazardously protruding form the wall of the cliff. It was a meticulous process trying to guide our horses down the side of the cliff. It felt like the scene in The Return of the King, when Frodo, Sam and Gollum climb up the path into Mordor. But this was worse.
At any moment, I knew I could be joining the scene below me. I could feel the tension in my horse’s body, the strenuous breathing, the sweat on his sides, the sound of scraping from his hooves sliding on the rock. I had to lean back as far as I could, clinging on for dear life, afraid of passing out and sliding off the back of my horse. It felt like an endless path. We were literally dropping into hell. Would we ever reach the bottom?
But then we stopped.
We had reached the entrance that led to the gate. The gate of hell. We paused there for just a moment. A suspense-filled pause. But it wasn’t a hesitation. There was no doubt or uncertainty in the way Jesus stopped and faced Hell. It was a fixation of will. It was a determined pause. It was like the intentional breath of a symphony. An emphasis on what lay ahead.
As we proceeded forward I could feel everything within me screaming to turn around and save myself. Why would anyone ever willingly go into hell? But I knew why. I knew that Jesus had come to claim His just reward. He had paid the price to free every single person from hell. He couldn't just leave them there.
So I followed Him in.
The gate opened before us, receiving us in. It was as if it was glad to usher in more prisoners.
And then it shut behind us. Silence.
There was no movement in this place. It was completely stripped of life. We stood there at the gate. There was nowhere to go. The carnage pressed itself against the door step of hell. My head began to spin. My breathing came in short gasps. I could not focus my vision on anything. The immensity of everything began to impede on my normal body functions. It took all my will power to restrain myself from throwing up or passing out. The screaming in my head just got louder. There was nothing we could do against this. Even with an army of 100,000, all with horses and carts, there was no way we could do anything against the vast number of casualties. The hope was sucked out of my soul.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jesus dismount. Again I followed His gaze and found that it was completely fixed on a body that lay closest to the gate. Jesus fell to His knees where the body lay. As I looked closer, I saw that the body had to have been a girl, maybe 10 years old judging by her size. But it was difficult to make out any human features. She was a distorted mess of flesh, completely torn to shreds. There was nothing left to her. I saw that her chest was still rising and falling, but even that thread of life was so weak and hopeless.
I watched as Jesus wrapped His arms around her frail body and whispered the words, “I will love you. I will love you. I will love you.” With strength and determination He scooped her up, her frame being but a vapor that I knew would escape at any moment.
Jesus mounted His horse and then looked at me. “Ellie, will you follow me?” My stomach completely dropped. I thought that once inside of hell, I would be begging Jesus to leave again. But choosing to follow Him out was even more difficult.
You are going to leave with just one? And one that has no hope of surviving? We risked everything to get down here. I followed you into Hell to take back what has been stolen! At least we have to save as many numbers as we can.
But there was urgency in the way Jesus looked at me and asked that question, “Ellie, will you follow me?” Time was everything. So I turned my horse to follow His.
I braced myself to make my way up the path again, but then the scene changed. We were in an open prairie with a flat, endless road stretching out in front of us. We were galloping. Jesus’ arms braced the girl as we raced forward. What lay at the end of this road? I didn’t know. But we pressed on. It was as if Jesus was furiously fighting a battle against time, distance and space, with a sword in His hand. Nothing would be able to stand in the way of His passion. There was nothing He wouldn’t do to save this tiny girl.
I looked down to where the girl sat, tucked away against Jesus’ chest, wildly bouncing with the galloping of the horse. And then it happened... The thread snapped. The last breath of life slipped away.
The horses came to an abrupt halt. Somehow they knew. The pounding of my heart within my head threatened my consciousness. Jesus again dismounted and knelt to the ground, this time with her empty body. I fell to the ground, a desperation that I had never felt before surfacing within my entire being. The screaming that had been in my head before, now violently escaped my lips.
“WHY?!!!!!” Fury hit me like a storm. WHY?!!!! You knew that she was going to die? Why did you do it? Why did you take me with you all the way into hell when you knew that it was a futile mission? Why did you leave all the others to try to save a life that was already gone? Why would you risk your life and waste your breath when you knew that she was just going to die in your arms? Why, Jesus, WHY?!!!
Jesus remained kneeling with her tiny body still in His arms. Bending over and slowly rocking, He pressed His forehead against hers and whispered the words, “I will love you.” He wiped the crusted blood from her eyes. “I will love you.” He ran His fingers through her matted hair, slowly working His way through the tangles. “I will love you.” He kissed every one of her scars.
And then He released a cry to the heavens that silenced my accusations and made my heart stand still. It was a cry that ached with all the emotion that had ever been experienced by earth. It seemed to stretch on endlessly.
But slowly it died off. Then I heard the words, “Ellie, will you follow me?”
I had no strength left. I lay pressed against the earth, feeling like I could just melt away, become part of the ground beneath me or just be blown off into nothingness. I was empty of everything. But somehow I was overpowered by a strength that was not my own. I found myself being peeled from the dust, though no hands touched me.
We turned off the road, no longer on our horses but on foot, to a beautiful oasis in the middle of the desert. In the center there was a beautiful pond. The water in this pond goes beyond description. The water was liquid Life. It was crystal clear yet the deepest blue imaginable. It was pure Light. Jesus gently lowered her now lovely body into the water. No longer was she stained, scarred, broken or bloody. Her chestnut hair lay in tousled curls over her shoulders. A faint but gentle smile graced her lips. Her clear face spoke of untold joys. She was clothed in a white dress and wore a crown of flowers. It was how she was originally created. As she slowly sank into the water, she exploded in light and then disappeared.
I still could not wrap my mind around what had just happened. Jesus turned His face to heaven.
“Father, receive this precious one today. Take her into your arms and hold her. Rejoice for I have delivered your daughter to the gates of heaven today. She is fully restored. Today we have victory for this one has found her way home to You.”
Jesus stood and began to leave. But then He turned back. This time His gaze was completely fixed on me. His eyes burned with such fire and passion. I trembled inside. “Who are you?” I was barely able to whisper. The fire in His eyes spoke to my spirit.
I am Alpha and Omega. I am the Beginning and the End. I am the First and the Last. I am Lord over all. I am Ruler of heaven and earth. I am King of kings. I am the perfect Lamb of God. I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. I am Salvation. I am Heaven. I am Eternity. And I am Love.
Then He spoke those words again. I knew what they meant. I knew what they meant before they were even spoken. This was not a one time thing. Jesus had a crazy obsession with "the one." He would stop for the one. He would fight for the one. He would risk it all for the one. He would die for the one. Nothing would stop Him. Numbers would not stop Him from His focus on the one. Everything He did for the one was worth it, even if He knew she would die in His arms on the road to freedom. It was worth it to Him. She was worth it.
So, not for the last time He asked me, “Ellie, will you follow me?”
It was there in the grass that I tried to process through what I was feeling and experiencing...
Earlier that day I sat with 20 little girls who were the victims of this cruel reality. Every one of them had been preyed upon by the dark souls of men. Sold into slavery, they had become subject to a living hell of having to sell their tiny bodies. And now, miraculously, they found themselves rescued out of the place of daily physical oppression. But were they really rescued? Were they not still slaves to torment? Were they not still oppressed by the darkness within themselves?
From the first day I met these broken yet beautiful souls, I struggled with this impossible question - what do I have to offer?
What do you say to someone so buried by pain you can't even see them when you look into their eyes? How can you express love through a hug when touch means absolutely nothing?
That morning I had held one of those precious ones in my arms, trying to break through to the spirit that was so hopelessly lost somewhere deep within herself. Tears slowly rolled down her dark little face, yet there was no emotion in her eyes. She didn't fight me holding her, yet neither did she respond to the love I offered, sitting there limp and lifeless like a used up dish-rag.
What do you do with that?
So I retreated to the garden, trying not to succumb to the despair I felt growing inside of me. Emotionally exhausted, I sprawled myself out on the grass, hoping for some alleviation from my turmoil. As I lay there, I felt Jesus come to me and say, "Ellie, I want to take you somewhere."
I was then with Him. We were both mounted on horses, standing on the ledge of a cliff overlooking an infinite valley. This valley was as far as the eye could see. A complete wasteland. No living thing to be found. And strewn across this valley was utter carnage. It was an unimaginable scene. A complete blood-bath. A holocaust unlike anything the earth had ever experienced. Bodies lay everywhere, not just covering the land, but covering the land in layers. There was not a single patch of land that was not covered in blood, filth and distorted flesh.
"Ellie, will you follow me?" Jesus asked the question I most dreaded to hear. I followed his gaze down towards the base of the cliff where there stood a vast and terrible gate. This was the gate of hell. So He wants to storm through the gate of hell? I couldn’t imagine how on earth we would be able to save them all, but I knew that I trusted Jesus. So yes, I would follow Him.
We started making our way down a path that was carved into the side of the cliff. It’s hard to call it a path, because it was more like a random connection of vertical rock faces hazardously protruding form the wall of the cliff. It was a meticulous process trying to guide our horses down the side of the cliff. It felt like the scene in The Return of the King, when Frodo, Sam and Gollum climb up the path into Mordor. But this was worse.
At any moment, I knew I could be joining the scene below me. I could feel the tension in my horse’s body, the strenuous breathing, the sweat on his sides, the sound of scraping from his hooves sliding on the rock. I had to lean back as far as I could, clinging on for dear life, afraid of passing out and sliding off the back of my horse. It felt like an endless path. We were literally dropping into hell. Would we ever reach the bottom?
But then we stopped.
We had reached the entrance that led to the gate. The gate of hell. We paused there for just a moment. A suspense-filled pause. But it wasn’t a hesitation. There was no doubt or uncertainty in the way Jesus stopped and faced Hell. It was a fixation of will. It was a determined pause. It was like the intentional breath of a symphony. An emphasis on what lay ahead.
As we proceeded forward I could feel everything within me screaming to turn around and save myself. Why would anyone ever willingly go into hell? But I knew why. I knew that Jesus had come to claim His just reward. He had paid the price to free every single person from hell. He couldn't just leave them there.
So I followed Him in.
The gate opened before us, receiving us in. It was as if it was glad to usher in more prisoners.
And then it shut behind us. Silence.
There was no movement in this place. It was completely stripped of life. We stood there at the gate. There was nowhere to go. The carnage pressed itself against the door step of hell. My head began to spin. My breathing came in short gasps. I could not focus my vision on anything. The immensity of everything began to impede on my normal body functions. It took all my will power to restrain myself from throwing up or passing out. The screaming in my head just got louder. There was nothing we could do against this. Even with an army of 100,000, all with horses and carts, there was no way we could do anything against the vast number of casualties. The hope was sucked out of my soul.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jesus dismount. Again I followed His gaze and found that it was completely fixed on a body that lay closest to the gate. Jesus fell to His knees where the body lay. As I looked closer, I saw that the body had to have been a girl, maybe 10 years old judging by her size. But it was difficult to make out any human features. She was a distorted mess of flesh, completely torn to shreds. There was nothing left to her. I saw that her chest was still rising and falling, but even that thread of life was so weak and hopeless.
I watched as Jesus wrapped His arms around her frail body and whispered the words, “I will love you. I will love you. I will love you.” With strength and determination He scooped her up, her frame being but a vapor that I knew would escape at any moment.
Jesus mounted His horse and then looked at me. “Ellie, will you follow me?” My stomach completely dropped. I thought that once inside of hell, I would be begging Jesus to leave again. But choosing to follow Him out was even more difficult.
You are going to leave with just one? And one that has no hope of surviving? We risked everything to get down here. I followed you into Hell to take back what has been stolen! At least we have to save as many numbers as we can.
But there was urgency in the way Jesus looked at me and asked that question, “Ellie, will you follow me?” Time was everything. So I turned my horse to follow His.
I braced myself to make my way up the path again, but then the scene changed. We were in an open prairie with a flat, endless road stretching out in front of us. We were galloping. Jesus’ arms braced the girl as we raced forward. What lay at the end of this road? I didn’t know. But we pressed on. It was as if Jesus was furiously fighting a battle against time, distance and space, with a sword in His hand. Nothing would be able to stand in the way of His passion. There was nothing He wouldn’t do to save this tiny girl.
I looked down to where the girl sat, tucked away against Jesus’ chest, wildly bouncing with the galloping of the horse. And then it happened... The thread snapped. The last breath of life slipped away.
The horses came to an abrupt halt. Somehow they knew. The pounding of my heart within my head threatened my consciousness. Jesus again dismounted and knelt to the ground, this time with her empty body. I fell to the ground, a desperation that I had never felt before surfacing within my entire being. The screaming that had been in my head before, now violently escaped my lips.
“WHY?!!!!!” Fury hit me like a storm. WHY?!!!! You knew that she was going to die? Why did you do it? Why did you take me with you all the way into hell when you knew that it was a futile mission? Why did you leave all the others to try to save a life that was already gone? Why would you risk your life and waste your breath when you knew that she was just going to die in your arms? Why, Jesus, WHY?!!!
Jesus remained kneeling with her tiny body still in His arms. Bending over and slowly rocking, He pressed His forehead against hers and whispered the words, “I will love you.” He wiped the crusted blood from her eyes. “I will love you.” He ran His fingers through her matted hair, slowly working His way through the tangles. “I will love you.” He kissed every one of her scars.
And then He released a cry to the heavens that silenced my accusations and made my heart stand still. It was a cry that ached with all the emotion that had ever been experienced by earth. It seemed to stretch on endlessly.
But slowly it died off. Then I heard the words, “Ellie, will you follow me?”
I had no strength left. I lay pressed against the earth, feeling like I could just melt away, become part of the ground beneath me or just be blown off into nothingness. I was empty of everything. But somehow I was overpowered by a strength that was not my own. I found myself being peeled from the dust, though no hands touched me.
We turned off the road, no longer on our horses but on foot, to a beautiful oasis in the middle of the desert. In the center there was a beautiful pond. The water in this pond goes beyond description. The water was liquid Life. It was crystal clear yet the deepest blue imaginable. It was pure Light. Jesus gently lowered her now lovely body into the water. No longer was she stained, scarred, broken or bloody. Her chestnut hair lay in tousled curls over her shoulders. A faint but gentle smile graced her lips. Her clear face spoke of untold joys. She was clothed in a white dress and wore a crown of flowers. It was how she was originally created. As she slowly sank into the water, she exploded in light and then disappeared.
I still could not wrap my mind around what had just happened. Jesus turned His face to heaven.
“Father, receive this precious one today. Take her into your arms and hold her. Rejoice for I have delivered your daughter to the gates of heaven today. She is fully restored. Today we have victory for this one has found her way home to You.”
Jesus stood and began to leave. But then He turned back. This time His gaze was completely fixed on me. His eyes burned with such fire and passion. I trembled inside. “Who are you?” I was barely able to whisper. The fire in His eyes spoke to my spirit.
I am Alpha and Omega. I am the Beginning and the End. I am the First and the Last. I am Lord over all. I am Ruler of heaven and earth. I am King of kings. I am the perfect Lamb of God. I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. I am Salvation. I am Heaven. I am Eternity. And I am Love.
Then He spoke those words again. I knew what they meant. I knew what they meant before they were even spoken. This was not a one time thing. Jesus had a crazy obsession with "the one." He would stop for the one. He would fight for the one. He would risk it all for the one. He would die for the one. Nothing would stop Him. Numbers would not stop Him from His focus on the one. Everything He did for the one was worth it, even if He knew she would die in His arms on the road to freedom. It was worth it to Him. She was worth it.
So, not for the last time He asked me, “Ellie, will you follow me?”
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Could it happen again?
Last summer I casually decided to read The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr. I was in need of a good read and I had purchased it on Amazon back in the spring as I thought it would be interesting to read up on King's life. I knew my basic US history - the boycotts, the march on Washington D.C., "I have a dream" - all the stuff you get taught in school. So, needless to say, I was blown out of the water by what I read through the pages of King's life and message.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Well it's been 22 years...
Well friends, it's been exactly 22 years since I made my debut into this world. I don't remember it very well, but I hear it was a great day! ;)
22 feels like a big deal for me. I know it's not a far stretch from 21. It literally is one day following another. It's not very easy to track change and growth when looking at it that way. But it's always so interesting for me to watch the pages of my life turn. One after the next. After the next. After the next. After the next. The steady flow of a life in motion.
I don't know if it's just me, but I frequently think about the past, present and future and how each flows into the next. I think about the present moment and how within an hour it will be the past. Or how I am sitting in this present moment thinking about a future moment and how when I eventually reach that moment I will think back to that now past moment when I had initially thought of the now present moment. (You may have to read that paragraph a couple more times to actually get it!)
Let me give an example so that I can make my abstract brain language make more sense to you.
I remember a time, probably 7 years ago, sitting in the backseat of a car, silently pondering what my life would be like in say 5 years. I remember thinking about how real my present reality was - the feel of the leather seats I was sitting on, the bouncing and the jolting of the car, the sound of the radio playing through the speakers, the Colorado mountain scene passing me by on the windy road. All of it was so real to me then.
But I remember thinking about how weird it was that in 5 years I would perhaps think back to that moment, but everything would be different. My perspective would, instead of looking forward from that moment into the unknown expanse, be looking back on that moment through a lens of 5 years of life. Stories, experiences, growth, change. I would look back through that same expanse, but I would be able to see all of the landmarks that spread across that space.
That's enough to make your mind dizzy!
I love keeping a journal. It has been one of my favorite things in the world since I was a little girl. I have journals on my bookshelf from the time I was 5 years old! Back when I was younger it was more so the romantic notion of writing "Dear diary" at each heading and fantasizing about how someday somebody would find my journals and want to turn them into a book.
Since then journaling has developed into a deep love for writing, a place for my creativity to be expressed, a place where I can be raw, messy and vulnerable, a dialogue between myself and Jesus and a safe harbor in which my heart can rest. But one of my favorite things about journaling is how I can flip back to so many moments of my life and get to experience that past, present and future phenomenon I just described.
This is the wonder of perspective. And this is why the journey of life, the flipping of each page, the writing of each story is such a marvel! It takes time. It takes patience. It takes steadiness. Sometimes it is exciting and full of momentum. Other times it is monotonous or excruciatingly painful. Sometimes it is what you expected. More often it turns out nothing like you had thought it would. No matter, without each season, without each chapter you cannot gain the perspective of a life lived out in all it's diversity.
So I stand here, on the finished side of a whopping 22 years. But it's with great humility that I look on wide-eyed towards the uncharted 22 that lies before me. I am, right now, completely ignorant in the ways of my future. But I know my Guide. And He has never led me astray, no not once.
I kind of feel like I'm jumping into a year where I am going to feel so clueless, in over my head, unqualified and overwhelmed in so many ways. And I can't wait! I said before that 22 feels big for me. I can't say exactly why. God keeps speaking to me about 22. But He doesn't actually say what exactly about 22. Just 22... So we'll see. I just can't wait to look back on this post about my thoughts in this moment of turning 22 in say another 5 years!
22 feels like a big deal for me. I know it's not a far stretch from 21. It literally is one day following another. It's not very easy to track change and growth when looking at it that way. But it's always so interesting for me to watch the pages of my life turn. One after the next. After the next. After the next. After the next. The steady flow of a life in motion.
I don't know if it's just me, but I frequently think about the past, present and future and how each flows into the next. I think about the present moment and how within an hour it will be the past. Or how I am sitting in this present moment thinking about a future moment and how when I eventually reach that moment I will think back to that now past moment when I had initially thought of the now present moment. (You may have to read that paragraph a couple more times to actually get it!)
Let me give an example so that I can make my abstract brain language make more sense to you.
I remember a time, probably 7 years ago, sitting in the backseat of a car, silently pondering what my life would be like in say 5 years. I remember thinking about how real my present reality was - the feel of the leather seats I was sitting on, the bouncing and the jolting of the car, the sound of the radio playing through the speakers, the Colorado mountain scene passing me by on the windy road. All of it was so real to me then. But I remember thinking about how weird it was that in 5 years I would perhaps think back to that moment, but everything would be different. My perspective would, instead of looking forward from that moment into the unknown expanse, be looking back on that moment through a lens of 5 years of life. Stories, experiences, growth, change. I would look back through that same expanse, but I would be able to see all of the landmarks that spread across that space.
That's enough to make your mind dizzy!
I love keeping a journal. It has been one of my favorite things in the world since I was a little girl. I have journals on my bookshelf from the time I was 5 years old! Back when I was younger it was more so the romantic notion of writing "Dear diary" at each heading and fantasizing about how someday somebody would find my journals and want to turn them into a book.
Since then journaling has developed into a deep love for writing, a place for my creativity to be expressed, a place where I can be raw, messy and vulnerable, a dialogue between myself and Jesus and a safe harbor in which my heart can rest. But one of my favorite things about journaling is how I can flip back to so many moments of my life and get to experience that past, present and future phenomenon I just described.
This is the wonder of perspective. And this is why the journey of life, the flipping of each page, the writing of each story is such a marvel! It takes time. It takes patience. It takes steadiness. Sometimes it is exciting and full of momentum. Other times it is monotonous or excruciatingly painful. Sometimes it is what you expected. More often it turns out nothing like you had thought it would. No matter, without each season, without each chapter you cannot gain the perspective of a life lived out in all it's diversity.
So I stand here, on the finished side of a whopping 22 years. But it's with great humility that I look on wide-eyed towards the uncharted 22 that lies before me. I am, right now, completely ignorant in the ways of my future. But I know my Guide. And He has never led me astray, no not once.
I kind of feel like I'm jumping into a year where I am going to feel so clueless, in over my head, unqualified and overwhelmed in so many ways. And I can't wait! I said before that 22 feels big for me. I can't say exactly why. God keeps speaking to me about 22. But He doesn't actually say what exactly about 22. Just 22... So we'll see. I just can't wait to look back on this post about my thoughts in this moment of turning 22 in say another 5 years!
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Crossing Over
Every time the New Years comes around it's super easy to go into reflection mode. This past year was so not what I was expecting. In many ways it was better than what I ever could have planned for. And then in other ways it was a ton more painful than what I had planned for. There were so many twists and turns in events that I almost felt like I stumbled out of 2013 in a dizzy stupor.
I knew that 2013 was going to be a year that would mark me forever. Well that's for sure! I guess when I thought of "being marked" I didn't picture the searing pain of my flesh being burned from being branded. That'll most definitely leave some scar tissue.
But I find that those marks have come to make who I am. Even though I experienced disappointment of the acutest kind, I was able to walk away with a hope filled mindset. Even though I experienced such deep trauma while holding little girls who had been raped everyday for years, I walked away with a burning passion for God's justice. Even though I was struck down by the fear of stepping into an unknown, unstable life of full-time ministry, I am walking into a deeper trust in my Savior than I have ever known.
So 2014... What on earth are you going to bring?
There have been many words that have been stirring in my spirit but the one resounding theme that rings clear as a bell is... It's time to possess the land!
I love the promises of the Lord. They are what keeps me going. In those times that I was so tempted to throw in the towel and forget pursuing any of my life's dreams, the promises He has given me have pulled me back into the race. But when are we going to move past the Jordan River of dream-boards and prophetic words and actually take hold of the promises?
For some reason I always pictured the Promised Land as this magical place that once you got there, all of the promises come true and you kind of live happily ever after. Unfortunately that's not biblical.
Right before Joshua led the children of Israel across the Jordan and into the Promised Land, the Lord commanded Joshua to "be strong and courageous." Why would they need to be strong or courageous if they were about to step into all the promises that they had been waiting for for hundreds of years? Wasn't it going to be handed over to them in a nice envelope with "don't spend it all at once" printed neatly on top?
That picture doesn't take into account the hostile giants that live in the land, or the vicious beasts that roam around, or the fortified cities that stand in the way. Why on earth would God allow those things to still be living in the Promised Land once His people have crossed over?
The waiting in the wilderness wasn't just God punishing the children of Israel for unbelief. He saw that the people weren't ready to possess the land. So for 40 years He put them through intense training, training that strengthened them. So on the day that the Jordan River loomed in front of them, they knew that they had been in preparation not just for a dip in a rushing river; they had been prepared for a massive war that would require strength, courage and complete dependency on the Spirit's leading.
For lack of a better way to put it, I don't think God wants a bunch of brats who just get what that want. That being said, I know that He is not wanting a bunch of over-achieving, performance driven kids. Therein lies the tension. Sometimes all we can do is receive as sons and daughters, without doing a single thing. And other times we need to actually fight for what we are going to receive.
For me, I have been in this perpetual waiting season - praying for the promises, waiting, resting in God's goodness, waiting, dreaming with God, waiting...
But now I am starting to hear a different tune. The time is NOW! Leave the wilderness behind in all it's pain and glory. You've given your absolute yes as you crossed the great divide of fear and unbelief. Now it's time to slay some giants and capture some fortified cities. It's time to possess the great inheritance He has stored up for you!
Highlights from this past year:
- Going to Spanish immersion school for 2 months and getting to witness to a different "profesora" every week.
- Visiting the Waorani tribe in the Amazon (where Jim Elliot gave his life to see the gospel preached) and getting to trek through the rain forrest, do tribal dances and enjoy getting to know the beautiful Waorani people. The Indigenous Sound of the Amazon
- Spending Valentine's Day passing out roses to prostitutes and drug dealers in Quito, Ecuador, giving love to those who don't know real love. What is Behind Their Eyes?
- Seeing revival break out in the girl's prison in Ecuador! Let the Caged Bird Fly & Jesus loves hanging out in prisons...
- Helping lead the Bethel missions trip in Ecuador and seeing signs and wonders break out.
- Running my first half marathon in Steamboat Springs, CO!
- Driving cross country with my sister Grace from California to Colorado.
- Spending 2 weeks on the beach in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico with my family. If being beach bums wasn't enough, we got to go on a sailing tour, swim with dolphins, snorkel on deserted islands, etc...
- Going to Hillside Worship Intensive in Harrisburg, PA and playing on a worship team for the first time.
- Moving to the East Coast and becoming a part of the Burn 24-7 family.
- Doing outreach in Salem, MA during the Halloween witch festival. If you're ever in Salem during Halloween...
- Spending Christmas with my entire family. We came in from all corners of the country!
I knew that 2013 was going to be a year that would mark me forever. Well that's for sure! I guess when I thought of "being marked" I didn't picture the searing pain of my flesh being burned from being branded. That'll most definitely leave some scar tissue.
But I find that those marks have come to make who I am. Even though I experienced disappointment of the acutest kind, I was able to walk away with a hope filled mindset. Even though I experienced such deep trauma while holding little girls who had been raped everyday for years, I walked away with a burning passion for God's justice. Even though I was struck down by the fear of stepping into an unknown, unstable life of full-time ministry, I am walking into a deeper trust in my Savior than I have ever known.
So 2014... What on earth are you going to bring?
There have been many words that have been stirring in my spirit but the one resounding theme that rings clear as a bell is... It's time to possess the land!
I love the promises of the Lord. They are what keeps me going. In those times that I was so tempted to throw in the towel and forget pursuing any of my life's dreams, the promises He has given me have pulled me back into the race. But when are we going to move past the Jordan River of dream-boards and prophetic words and actually take hold of the promises?
For some reason I always pictured the Promised Land as this magical place that once you got there, all of the promises come true and you kind of live happily ever after. Unfortunately that's not biblical.
Right before Joshua led the children of Israel across the Jordan and into the Promised Land, the Lord commanded Joshua to "be strong and courageous." Why would they need to be strong or courageous if they were about to step into all the promises that they had been waiting for for hundreds of years? Wasn't it going to be handed over to them in a nice envelope with "don't spend it all at once" printed neatly on top?
That picture doesn't take into account the hostile giants that live in the land, or the vicious beasts that roam around, or the fortified cities that stand in the way. Why on earth would God allow those things to still be living in the Promised Land once His people have crossed over?
The waiting in the wilderness wasn't just God punishing the children of Israel for unbelief. He saw that the people weren't ready to possess the land. So for 40 years He put them through intense training, training that strengthened them. So on the day that the Jordan River loomed in front of them, they knew that they had been in preparation not just for a dip in a rushing river; they had been prepared for a massive war that would require strength, courage and complete dependency on the Spirit's leading.
For lack of a better way to put it, I don't think God wants a bunch of brats who just get what that want. That being said, I know that He is not wanting a bunch of over-achieving, performance driven kids. Therein lies the tension. Sometimes all we can do is receive as sons and daughters, without doing a single thing. And other times we need to actually fight for what we are going to receive.
For me, I have been in this perpetual waiting season - praying for the promises, waiting, resting in God's goodness, waiting, dreaming with God, waiting...
But now I am starting to hear a different tune. The time is NOW! Leave the wilderness behind in all it's pain and glory. You've given your absolute yes as you crossed the great divide of fear and unbelief. Now it's time to slay some giants and capture some fortified cities. It's time to possess the great inheritance He has stored up for you!
Highlights from this past year:
- Going to Spanish immersion school for 2 months and getting to witness to a different "profesora" every week.
- Visiting the Waorani tribe in the Amazon (where Jim Elliot gave his life to see the gospel preached) and getting to trek through the rain forrest, do tribal dances and enjoy getting to know the beautiful Waorani people. The Indigenous Sound of the Amazon
- Spending Valentine's Day passing out roses to prostitutes and drug dealers in Quito, Ecuador, giving love to those who don't know real love. What is Behind Their Eyes?
- Seeing revival break out in the girl's prison in Ecuador! Let the Caged Bird Fly & Jesus loves hanging out in prisons...
- Helping lead the Bethel missions trip in Ecuador and seeing signs and wonders break out.
- Running my first half marathon in Steamboat Springs, CO!
- Driving cross country with my sister Grace from California to Colorado.
- Spending 2 weeks on the beach in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico with my family. If being beach bums wasn't enough, we got to go on a sailing tour, swim with dolphins, snorkel on deserted islands, etc...
- Going to Hillside Worship Intensive in Harrisburg, PA and playing on a worship team for the first time.
- Moving to the East Coast and becoming a part of the Burn 24-7 family.
- Doing outreach in Salem, MA during the Halloween witch festival. If you're ever in Salem during Halloween...
- Spending Christmas with my entire family. We came in from all corners of the country!
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Canyon
On my trip back to Colorado I decided to finally pick up the book I have been meaning to read since I bought it almost a year ago - Not For Sale: The Return of the Global Slave Trade and How We Can Fight It. I bought this book while I was working in the heat of this world, working with girls rescued out of sex slavery. But even as I am now living in America, this injustice beats in my heart.
Before I started I asked Jesus this simple request - Let this book impact me as if I were hearing about this outrage for the first time. Let this not be old news to me! And as I began to read, I got caught up in the outrage of this sick reality. My heart broke once again for the little girls locked in brothels all over the world, for the women who despair for lack of any other options, for the men who are enslaved by the spirit of lust, and for this lost and broken world.
I would read a little portion of my book and then stare out from my window seat, lost in deep reveries. It was during one of those moments that my meditation on slavery crossed paths with the scenic view beneath me. The plane was flying over the huge, barren desert of Nevada. It was dry. It was lifeless. It was stark. The canyons that etched deep paths through the desert spoke loudly to me. And I quickly jotted down these words.
Injustice has become a canyon in my heart.
Story after story, like a steady stream,
injustice carves it's way through the recesses of my soul
until the profundity of the crevices
become too deep to ever smooth over.
How can I ever ignore the wailing of the wind
that blows through these canyons?
How could these colossal canyon walls
ever become invisible to my eyes?
They mark me.
They ravage my conscience.
They wreak my existence.
There is no place to safely tuck this reality away;
out of sight, out of mind;
pretending to live in some unpolluted environment.
There is no way that I could ever eliminate
the searing pain of these scars.
But, you know, even if there was a way,
how could I ever choose such a thing?
This pain becomes passion.
The passion becomes fire.
The canyons are fuel.
I know one day this roaring force
will become unstoppable.
There will soon be a river of JUSTICE
that flows through the desert,
bringing life and restoration to the barren land.
I can see the dawn of such a day rising in my heart;
hope calls me onward.
But until that day arrives,
I choose to walk the lonely and painful canyon road.
Before I started I asked Jesus this simple request - Let this book impact me as if I were hearing about this outrage for the first time. Let this not be old news to me! And as I began to read, I got caught up in the outrage of this sick reality. My heart broke once again for the little girls locked in brothels all over the world, for the women who despair for lack of any other options, for the men who are enslaved by the spirit of lust, and for this lost and broken world.
I would read a little portion of my book and then stare out from my window seat, lost in deep reveries. It was during one of those moments that my meditation on slavery crossed paths with the scenic view beneath me. The plane was flying over the huge, barren desert of Nevada. It was dry. It was lifeless. It was stark. The canyons that etched deep paths through the desert spoke loudly to me. And I quickly jotted down these words.
Injustice has become a canyon in my heart.
Story after story, like a steady stream,
injustice carves it's way through the recesses of my soul
until the profundity of the crevices
become too deep to ever smooth over.
How can I ever ignore the wailing of the wind
that blows through these canyons?
How could these colossal canyon walls
ever become invisible to my eyes?
They mark me.
They ravage my conscience.
They wreak my existence.
There is no place to safely tuck this reality away;
out of sight, out of mind;
pretending to live in some unpolluted environment.
There is no way that I could ever eliminate
the searing pain of these scars.
But, you know, even if there was a way,
how could I ever choose such a thing?
This pain becomes passion.
The passion becomes fire.
The canyons are fuel.
I know one day this roaring force
will become unstoppable.
There will soon be a river of JUSTICE
that flows through the desert,
bringing life and restoration to the barren land.
I can see the dawn of such a day rising in my heart;
hope calls me onward.
But until that day arrives,
I choose to walk the lonely and painful canyon road.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
A Seed to the Nations
I don't even know where to start...There is hope for this nation.
God is on the move.
I think I more clearly understand why I have been called to the unsuspecting city of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
Yesterday our Burn team took a tour of the Pennsylvania state capitol building with a woman from our church who knows all the spiritual and religious history of the state and the building. From the moment we stepped into the building I knew that the Holy Spirit had set us up for this moment. We were about to have our minds blown.
Even to the common person, who is not even looking for prophetic meaning or anything along those lines, would see the unmistakable marks of Christian heritage that are literally inscribed into the extravagant detail of the capitol building. But then when one takes the time to slow down and read the writings under each painting and listen to the history that inspired the art, you begin to realize that you are not walking through a strictly political building, but a building that was intended to be a seed of hope for the nation.I don't know that I have ever encountered so much hope for America as I did while I was "walking through history" yesterday.
Just a brief picture of the insight we received yesterday from our tour guide:
 |
| Seeing the life of William Penn |
There is a saying, "... as Pennsylvania goes, so goes the nation." Pennsylvania is called the "Keystone" State. The keystone is the stone, at the top of an arch that holds all the other stones together. And so it is in the natural order in the arch of the first 13 colonies, how much more so as the Spiritual Keystone State. For everything in the natural realm is patterned after something in the spiritual. The United States Constitution is modeled after William Penn's First Frame of Government written to establish the "holy experiment" which came to be known as Pennsylvania. Penn had a visitation by God as a young student at Oxford where he got his covenantal vision to create a government that would be a holy example to the nations. After being imprisoned 6 times in England as a prisoner of conscience because he believed you could not wear the crown without honoring the cross, he was sent out of England and given the land that became Pennsylvania where he would plant the holy seed of a nation and write his famous quote engraved in the capitol rotunda today:
"That there be room there for such a Holy Experiment...For the nations want a precedent and My God will make It (Pennsylvania) the Seed of a Nation.... That an example may be set up to the nations... That we may do the thing that is truly wise and just."
- William Penn
Pennsylvania carries the covenantal root to establish godly government to be a holy example to honor all men and bring freedom and justice for all. The government of Pennsylvania is destined to serve as a holy example, to not only our nation, but to all nations.
(Abbey Abildness - http://www.generals.org/prayer/root-52/prayer-reports/pennsylvania-prayer-guide/)
And Penn's life, message and vision for this holy nation is depicted in countless paintings in the Capitol. There are paintings of quakers doing baptisms. There is one of trumpeters releasing a sound from the top of the Capitol as the Israelites did with their shofars. There is another of angels of light being released to the nations. And another of the lady of justice standing on the serpent of injustice.
 |
| The spirit of light |
 |
| Justice crushing the serpent |
The entire painting is a vision for what this nation is called to be, and it all comes from Revelation 22:1-2, "And he showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding from the throne of God and of the Lamb. In the middle of its street and on either side of the river, was the tree of life, which bore twelve fruits, each tree yielding its fruit every month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations."
The painting depicts the river of life and the fruit being handed down to women, children and victims of injustice. You can see those in shackles being set free. You can see the sick dipping into the river. There are kings casting down their crowns. There are men with swords beating them into plowshares. And there are people worshiping at the throne of God.
 |
| Revelation 22:1-2 |
In that moment, I could feel a holy conviction dropping into my spirit. What we are doing with the Burn is establishing a center of prayer and worship with a missional, covenantal community here in the city of Harrisburg, where the vision is complete city transformation. And then what we are building and establishing here will become a model for the global network of communities that have been connecting themselves to the Burn over the past 7 years. We want to become a hub for the nations to come, be resourced, trained and empowered to replicate this in their own city. So in essence, we are wanting to become a seed of revival and transformation for the nations.
And unbeknownst to most of us, the prophetic declaration over this land over the past 400 years has been that Pennsylvania would become a seed of liberty to the nations. What if God has been setting up this land, even before America was a nation, to be a sending place where His Spirit could go out from and bring healing to the nations?
Talk about standing on holy ground.
If this had been all to our tour it would have been enough to send us all reeling, with all of our prophetic sensors going haywire. But then somehow, I still don't even know, we got into these crazy "backdoor" meetings.
First we met with a State Representative who is working on passing a bill that will put "In God We Trust" back into all the schools in the State of Pennsylvania. It was incredible seeing his heart for this nation, to see the Church rise up and combat the works of the enemy. We got to pray over him and release God's grace and favor on his bill.
Then we met with one of the State Senators who is presenting an anti-sex trafficking bill for the State of Pennsylvania. This man is so Kingdom minded, and has such a compassionate heart to see women and children rescued out of this atrocious industry that is rampaging all of our cities. We had a prayer meeting right then and there in the Capitol building with Senator Greenleaf, a judge, another Senator and a handful of other intercessors who have been praying there at the Capitol for the past 50 years. We prayed Isaiah 61 over Senator Greenleaf that the Spirit of the Lord God would rest upon him to set the captives free!
As we stood in that room, interceding over the issue of children being used in the sex industry, I felt like I was being caught up in a moment - one of those "for such a time as this" kind of moments. Why Harrisburg? Why did God call me all the way out to this unassuming city, nowhere near "the nations" that my heart beats for? Doubt always seems to knock on the windows of the mind, but here I found myself in a moment of divine setup. Everything has a purpose. I don't have to know the reason every time. But I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that when I said "Yes" to Him, no matter what that looked like, He took me for my word and He is faithful with His end of the deal. He's not going to shipwreck me on an island for no reason. He's my Dad. He's been setting all of this up from before the time I was born.
Anyway, today 3 of us girls went back to the Capitol for a press conference that was happening for Senator Greenleaf to present his bill. Yesterday he told us that it was a hard bill to pass and there was a big chance that it might not even make it through to a voting. So this morning in the prayer room we had an amazing time of intercession as we released the Spirit of the Lord over Senator Greenleaf, the Capitol building and over the bill. In our spirits was not only an intense burden from the Lord as He was marking our community with this issue of sex-trafficking, but also a joy-filled hope that God has brought us here to Harrisburg for such a time as this to release liberty!
Well it turned out that we were misinformed about the time of the press conference and we showed up an hour after it had already finished. Feeling a little let-down, we began to walk back towards the entrance of the building. While we were walking, I thought to myself, "Maybe we were supposed to come here for some other reason, or to pray for something." Just then we saw Senator Greenleaf walking down the hall! We stopped him and asked him how the press conference went. He told us that it went surprisingly well and they unanimously agreed to bring the bill to the floor to vote on.
He invited us to stay for when he would present the bill to the Senate that afternoon. He then asked us if we would like to see the Senate Chamber floor right then before they started. Um Yes! So he took us in with his special badge, showed us where they sign the bills, explained the different seats in the Chamber, etc... Then we were able to talk with him more about our hearts for the issue of sex trafficking and how we would love to help them out in someway. He ended up giving us some crazy connection with a District Attorney who has been largely involved in helping girls who have come out of prostitution. He told us that she is looking to quit her practice and start moving towards doing that full time. So he sent us to his office where his secretary took all of our information and she gave us the information of this DA.
 |
| Senator Greenleaf |
Friday, November 29, 2013
An un-calloused heart
It's my joy to lay my life down.
Cuz when I lose my life for your sake it will be found.
I've had this song playing in my head all morning and it seems to be the anthem of my heart over the past few weeks.
It seems that too often we trumpet the message of "sold out" devotion to Jesus and laying it all down for the sake of the Gospel; we all want to wow the world with our passion and vision for changing the world. But we often forget that laying out lives down means a whole lot more than packing our suitcases to fly to some country, or being the first to run up to the altar at some big conference. I'm pretty sure if you asked any goat or lamb who has ever laid down on the altar, they would tell you that the ambition to wow a bunch of people was the furthest thing from their minds!
OK I'm not saying any of this is bad... I am living a life that involves these elements to some degree. However, the point I would like to make is - does this equate to the laid down life that Jesus was talking about? Do our aspirations of becoming "rockstars" in the Christian (or non-Christian) world, fulfill our calling to sacrifice?
I've been pondering this idea of true sacrifice in regards to my life and where the Lord has placed me in this season. What does laying my life down look like in the inner-city of Harrisburg, PA? What does laying my life down look like living in a house of 20 some people? What does laying my life down in the context of community and ministry?
I don't have all the answers, but if there's anything I've learned, even in my time living as an overseas missionary, it is that laying your life down for something or someone is very rarely a glamorous ordeal. In fact, it usually feels hard - you would rather be doing anything other than sacrificing in the moment, and you hope for some excuse to get out of actually doing what you committed to do. Or when you do sacrifice, it feels small and insignificant; nobody is watching you and you feel completely hidden. And then there is the moment of shift when you realize all your ambitions of having 100 really amazing testimonies of how everything and everyone was transformed the minute you stepped onto the scene, actually turned into you sitting with one little kid who could care less about the craft that you had all planned out.
Maybe a harsh example... But it is so true! We want the glory stories. Those are the ones people want to hear. People don't necessarily want to hear about the one person you spent a couple hours with but didn't see converted. But I believe that's what laying your life down looks like. It means laying down every single ambition for personal glory. It means throwing apathy out the window every... single... day.
I had a dream the other night and in my dream I was praying for someone and I kept declaring over and over again, "God, tear off the callus from their heart!" I've been praying into that dream and it has become a prayer for myself. God, tear off any callous that is on my heart! I want to love like you loved, Jesus! I want to lay my life down as you did, in order to love on the people you have called me to love on. I do not want to live my life
So going back to the lyrics of that song, I find that although laying one's life down is anything but glamorous, it produces, however, the most joyous rewards a life could produce. There is so much joy in the laying down of your own life ambitions in order to serve another person's life. Learning to love like Jesus loves - sacrificial love - is our highest privilege. We find our life's true meaning in that place.
I had all of this on my heart as I prepped for and served at the harvest party that we threw for the families in our neighborhood. 200 people showed up in the pouring rain to receive a free chili meal as well as a free professional family portrait. The entire night I was running (literally) between the overcrowded kitchen full of pots of chili and the big white tents outside that were sheltering everyone from the freezing cold downpour, making sure that everything ran smoothly and everyone was getting fed.
When did it ever have anything to do with me? When did the definition of sacrifice and servanthood ever involve self-gratification? Ministry was never designed to somehow validate self-worth and self-importance. How can we consider it humility when we take the low road while having the intentions of being seen, applauded and then promoted to the high seat of honor? It's time to lay that all down and die! If I'm never seen, if I never get patted on the back and if I never get favor or honor by men, I want to continue to see my life as a success before my Savior. I want to lose sight of my life, in a sense. But then I want to stumble upon HIS life and have that become the sight that my being is fixed upon.
John 12:24
Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.
 |
| The lovely volunteers |
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Paradoxical
It was in the middle of a 24 hour Burn, during the 2-4 AM worship set, that the Lord began to speak to me about the paradox that I was about to step into. I was laying out on the floor, soaking in His sweet presence, when He reminded me of a prophetic word that I received while I was at Bethel.
The picture was of me dancing on top of a gigantic map of the entire world. This person told me, "You are called to the nations. You are going to see transformation in the nations through your worship and dance. But God wants you to know that you don't even have to wait until you are in the nations. He is going to use you even from your home to release revival to the nations of the world."
The picture was of me dancing on top of a gigantic map of the entire world. This person told me, "You are called to the nations. You are going to see transformation in the nations through your worship and dance. But God wants you to know that you don't even have to wait until you are in the nations. He is going to use you even from your home to release revival to the nations of the world."
As I was remembering this word, Jesus began to elaborate on a word that He gave me 2 years ago but was only now actually breathing upon. He told me that He was calling me to be planted in a home. He was not going to send me overseas again right away. He told me that He was calling me to the house of prayer, the place of worship and intercession. It was there that He wanted to truly give me His heart for the nations. Even though I would not be living in the nations, He wanted to teach me how I could impact the world through worship while being planted in America.
It's one thing to have a heart for a nation when you are there living in that nation, surrounded by the culture, seeing up close all of the injustices that thrive in that place. That becomes your reality and so your heart is forced to respond in some shape or form. But what does that look like when you are back in the all-consuming reality of Western, American life? You no longer see the faces, no longer have the conversations, no longer hear the cries. It becomes a distant and "imagined" reality. That is when you truly need God's heart in order to love all the peoples of the world.
I thought I had God's heart for the nations. I mean, I lived in South America for 8 months. I did the missionary thing. I know the daily grind of being a long-term missionary. But when I came back to America I had a massive reality check. Did I really learn to love? Am I even called to the nations? At the end of the day, is it even worth it? Is loving these people worth the pain? What happens when I run out of love?
After months of wrestling with these hard questions, walking through dark days where I didn't know if I even wanted to love the nations, I saw that my own love was most definitely not enough. My heart is only so big. My love is only so strong. It has a beginning and an end. And once I reach the end, then what? But His love is not so.
So why would He call me to a house of prayer in America if He wanted to give me His heart for the nations? Therein lies the paradox that I find myself in the middle of. I am learning that it is impossible to draw close to God's heart in the place of worship without getting His heart for the world. The more time you spend gazing at this God of love, the more you come face to face with the emotions of His heart; you see what it is that His love is turned towards. The place of intimacy with Jesus inevitably leads to a call to missions - whatever that looks like for each individual. Some will be called to go live in a remote village, others will be called to the arena of business suits and ties; the point being that you can't fall in love with Jesus without falling in love with the world.
There have been different occasions in my life where I would say I experienced a very deep, emotional place of God's heart. These have not been flowery, magical moments where I felt the "I'm on top of the world" kind of love for the nations. They have been excruciatingly painful, anything but pretty, humiliating and unorthodox moments. But I would so much rather be on the floor in a puddle of tears and snot and really know what God feels for the world, than to go "dancing through life, skimming the surface."
Now let it be known that I have the theology that God is in a good mood. Too many people in the Church see God as an angry, old man who is waiting for us to mess up so He can punish us. He is a far cry from that ridiculous image! He is a God that delights in us with rejoicing, wild spinning and whoops of outrageous happiness over each of us. That being true, He is neither one faced in His character, only being a God of joy. God feels every emotion in it's fullest form for God is emotion in it's fullest form. I feel like even less of the Church truly sees the weeping God. We all love the joy and laughter that comes as we experience His delight, but not many of us would choose the suffering of God's heart.
But this is this is what He is looking for, and is one of the reasons He called me here in this season - He is looking for those that want to know what He feels, for those that He can trust with the deep things of His heart. It is as we experience the deep emotions of God's heart that all self-motivation is ripped out of us. If we rush into the nations without this key, it becomes too easy to lose sight of why we are doing what we are doing. He wants to trust us with the nations, with strategies to solve all the problems of the earth, with a global harvest of billions of souls; but He first wants to see if He can trust us with His heart.
So as I find myself weeping on the church floor or in the quiet of my car in the city of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, wondering if the pain is worth it when I really can't do anything from where I'm at, Jesus simply whispers, "Exactly! It's not about what you can do, how amazing you are at loving people, or the vision and passion you have to impact the nations. You tried that, remember? You are here to get my heart for the nations."
So here I am, a 21 year old girl from Colorado, burning for worship and missions, living on the East Coast of the US, wondering how on earth I got out here. But I find that I am smack-dab in the very middle of His will and there's no place I would rather be. I don't want another encounter where I walk away unchanged. I want to be so ravished by His heart of justice and compassion for the world that that becomes my every waking moment reality. I know that it is worth it, so I keep saying Yes!!!
Monday, November 4, 2013
If you're ever in Salem during Halloween...
 |
| Salem, MA |
It's the night before Halloween. The late October temperatures cause the tourists and locals alike to wrap their jackets and scarves a little bit tighter. The streets of Salem, MA are already beginning to fill with the throngs of people who have traveled to this small town for the annual witch festival. This town truly revolves around witchcraft. Whether it is seen as a real supernatural power or not, witchcraft thrives in Salem because of the tourist attraction that it has become. It is a symbol, a Mecca, for those involved and intrigued by witchcraft. But it is on one night during the year at the very end of October that over 100,000 people throng the quaint, village like Main St. in Salem. And that's why we came. On one of the darkest nights of the year, in a place that has become a hub for the spirits of darkness to gather, we come to burn brightly, passionately and continually.
We have gathered two blocks from where all the "festivities" will take place - rituals, seances, necromancy, a psychic fair, etc... Tucked away in a beautiful brick church built over 125 years ago, the kingdom of heaven is breaking out in explosions of worship, praise and declarations of revival. Somewhere between 60-100 people have gathered from all over the east coast to take part in a 60 hour, non-stop prayer and worship service.
This is what we call a Burn. An unbroken sound of worship carrying on throughout the day and throughout the night. Each worship set lasting 2 hours, some sets full of the rambunctious expression of celebration before the Lord, others sets carrying an atmosphere of stillness before the Lord as people rest in His presence or pray out the Scripture. Different groups of people are assigned to the sanctuary to sustain the prayer and worship, while everyone else joins in or take short breaks in the back of the church. Sleeping bags are unrolled in the basement and upper room of the church. Sleep comes in very short shifts, but it almost feels like you aren't asleep but just soaking in the worship that echoes throughout the entire building all night long. There is an eternal pot of coffee in the back of the church to help shake off the sleep before entering back into another worship set. We do this because we believe there is a kingdom that is greater than the kingdom of darkness in Salem. And we know that this kingdom, the kingdom of heaven, is attracted to the sound of passionate, abandoned worship released by hearts that are fully in love.
 |
| Wild dance party in the church |
Back to the scene I was painting...
On this particular night, the night before Halloween, the night before the darkest night of the year, heaven is indeed invading this small church gathering. It seems as though the hours of incessant worship has pierced through into greater realms of His glory. It's something that really can't be fully explained, but when you are in the very middle of what is going on, you know that it is real; it's more real than even the darkness that surrounds us. The spirit of fear and intimidation is completely cast off as some 100 people dance wildly to the tribal drum beats that bounce off the sanctuary walls. Joy is spilling over the brim, threatening to flood outside of the building. Shouts of victory released, banners of freedom raised, an appeal to boldly and fearlessly love the lost goes out amongst this body of radical people. Anyone peering in through the stained glass windows at this very moment would be caught off guard by this almost frenzied scene. We are not burying our heads in desperate prayer, begging God to show up. We are rejoicing with the good news that He has already shown up and He wants to encounter and heal the lost, the broken, the prisoners, the witches and the psychics more than even we do.
Are you there with me? Did you feel the excitement rising in your spirit? Did your ears ring with hope and encouragement? Did the picture of abandoned worship catch you up into His glorious presence? Well it was with this sight still flashing in my mind, these sounds still ringing in my ears, and this experience filling my heart that I walked out onto the streets Halloween night. It truly was a sight to see. Around 50 of us marched out of the church, skipping with excitement, literally running towards the witches and psychics and every frightening scene imaginable. As we arrived to the dark yet crowded streets, we split up into groups stationed on the sidewalks. Signs waving above our heads that read - "Free spiritual readings" & "Free spiritual healing" - definitely drew the attention of many curious people looking to have a good time. We weren't like the doomsday preachers on the benches, evangelizing hate and condemnation. We weren't like the psychics at the booths, cheating people's pocket books on a counterfeit power. We were different. We carried the real power, the real Jesus.
 |
| 4 AM worship |
Outreach has always felt like a massive pressure on me - pressure to see results, pressure to fit a certain description of an evangelist, pressure to hear God's voice, etc... In my mind, I have always concurred with the truth that we need to go out without an agenda, but still that unspoken expectation looms around every corner of my heart. I have dealt with this demon of performance more times than I can count. And yet at times I wonder if it is even worth it. I would rather not go on outreaches than to have to bear the pressure of fitting a role that is not me.
 |
| The Haunted Happenings festival Halloween night |
I have countless stories of people encountering Jesus and having their lives changed - both the spiritual seekers and the cynical mockers. Real witches encountered the God of love. Broken teenagers wept as they heard about the Father's heart. Every person we prayed for physical healing got healed. We saw people get saved right there on the streets. You could literally see a light turning on in the eyes of hopeless people. It was by no means a "hard" spiritual environment. Honestly it was like ministering from an open heaven. I was seriously blown away by it all.
In the very middle of everything going on that night, I had a brief moment with Jesus. I was so full of thanksgiving, I couldn't help but stop what I was doing and marvel at how good and faithful He is. He placed this dream in my heart for such a long time - to intentionally go to the darkest places without any agenda but to simply worship Him with all of my heart and to burn so brightly that people come to watch. This was happening. This was reality. And now I just want to say to anyone reading this post - He really does want to use us. He really does put dreams in our hearts for a reason. And He really does love showing up in what the church would label as the hardest and darkest places. That's His specialty.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)