Prayer Revival

Our church has been experiencing a prayer revival. Have you ever heard of one or been a part of one? I had not. Never in my 51 years as a Christ follower. It was not really planned ahead to become what it has. We were expecting something, but not this.

Twice a year we have revival services. Some may not be familiar with that. We have a guest speaker, another minister, come in for about 4-5 services and preach. It is a time of renewal for the members and usually a time of salvation for the lost. Normally the week before the services begin, we have special prayer time focusing on the guest minister and the moving of the Holy Spirit within the services. For years we had people designate a time they would come to the church to quietly pray. Last year, as well as opening the church, we had cottage prayer meetings at different homes. This time has been different. Not only where and when we prayed, but how we prayed.

Services were to begin on November 8th. The week prior, beginning on November 1st, we began praying in earnest for a moving like we had never seen before. Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday through Saturday we had multiple groups meeting in homes, different areas on our campus,and at various times of the days and evenings. We cried out for something different, something that would remain past the meetings with the guest speaker. On Wednesday night, our regular Bible study time, we had prayer instead of study. On Sunday we were looking forward to the beginning of our services. That was not to be. The guest speaker had tragically lost several members of his family and needed to remain to conduct funerals and support his loved ones. So our revival services were delayed for another week.

Our pastor knew God had begun moving in the hearts of our people and he did not want this momentum to change. Neither did we. Instead of the preaching services we expected to have Sunday through Wednesday nights, we met at the church to continue praying. We poured ourselves out before God and bathed the altar in tears. We had more in attendance for these meetings than we normally have for the actual revival services. One of the most moving things has been the participation by our youth, especially our teens. Each night they have filled pews and bowed before God. The remaining days and nights, prayer groups would meet as we did the week before. We also committed to each pray an hour a day on our own. It has been an awe inspiring thing to be a part of! God has met with us each time. We will be ready to receive what God has prepared for us next week.

I normally have a hard time kneeling for more than a few minutes due to previous back surgeries, but God has allowed me to kneel for our meetings with no pain or numbness in my legs. When I arrived at church Wednesday night, there were only a couple of people already in the sanctuary. The lights were low and soft Christian music was playing. As I opened the sanctuary door, it seemed the Spirit of God rushed to greet me and my eyes filled with tears. Please do not think this is just a temporary emotional experience. It is emotional, but it is much deeper than that. This is a real moving of the Spirit within our people.

So you may be wondering what these prayers were like. Not what you would expect probably. They were not flowery words that would impress anyone. They were simple words of praise for a merciful God and pleas for Him to change our hearts, our lives, our service to Him. There are many gifted orators who can deliver prayers that impress men. All too often this type of prayer does not move us spiritually and I fear does not move God at all. This does not mean that all gifted orators pray without feeling, for I know those who pray straight from their hearts, but even for them this was different. Prayers that usually come controlled, came as cries of desperation. It is hard to explain just how different this has been. I wish you could be there. I pray that God will give each of you a prayer revival, individually and as a church body. I ask that if you are a Christ follower, that you lift up my church family, that what God has begun Satan will not be able to penetrate.

A Place of Refuge

There is a park in my town where I love to go to sit in my car next to one of the two rivers that meet but do not mix. It is a peaceful place, a place I call my refuge. I have been there when the water was as smooth as glass, when it gently washed ashore in small ripples, and when the winds angrily pushed the foamy waves forward reaching out for those of us brave enough to sit and watch. I have seen it with frozen edges and snow covered sand. I have seen it flooded from storms, so much so that I was blocked from entering by vehicle. I have never seen it when it was not beautiful. I have never been there when I did not feel God's presence. Sometimes I just sit and watch the people who come to feed the ducks and geese. Sometimes I take photographs. I always find it the most perfect place to pray and listen for the voice of God. No, I do not hear Him audibly, but I hear Him in the beauty of this place and He speaks to my heart. Here I am assured that He will calm life's raging waves.

There is a lone tree standing there in the sand. It has endured much as it keeps watch over the waters beyond. It's gnarled roots are becoming more and more exposed as recent storms have washed away more of their protective covering. Today I thought of how those roots resemble fingers, curled and digging into the sand, refusing to give up its grip. It is a powerful image. It reminds me that we, too, sometime have to dig in and hold on. Life is not always smooth or gentle. Sometimes it is angrily rushing at us, attempting to wash us away with its cares and burdens. We must not lose faith in the One who created all and controls all. We must continue to tighten our grip, to hang on, to refuse to relinquish even a fraction of our hope in Him. 

As many of you cannot visit my place of refuge, I would like to share two pictures. Would love to share more but just not enough room.

A beautiful day

Holding on  10/29/2015

America The Compassionate

I once knew a WWII veteran who had strong feelings about the American response to returning Desert Storm veterans. These young men and women of Desert Storm were treated as heroes. Our country made every effort to show them gratitude and respect and not repeat the horrific mistake made by so many when our Vietnam veterans returned home. This man felt, due to the superiority of weaponry of the United States, the men returning were not heroes in comparison to those of WWII. I have to tell you that I was shocked. I would never have imagined a veteran could feel that way about other veterans, regardless of the tremendous improvements in defensive and offensive weaponry. Men and women had died during Desert Storm. Many had permanent injuries, as this WWII veteran had. This man had a grandson who was also a veteran. In my shock I asked, "Let me ask you something. If" your grandson "was one of those veterans returning from Desert Storm, would you feel the same way?" I could tell this question hit him really hard. He hesitated only a moment and then, with a little smile, said "No." Please do not feel that I did not have the utmost respect for this gentleman. He had earned a Purple Heart, Bronze Star, and Silver Star as an Army soldier during combat in France. I not only had respect for him, but great love. I was very proud of him. You see, that man was my father and his grandson, my nephew.

Many Desert Storm veterans, just like some WWII veterans, were not all Americans. There were some who had not yet received their U.S. citizenship, but fought with and as Americans. They are as loved and respected as any other and some were granted U.S. citizenship while still on the foreign field of engagement. Were they any less thought of as American soldiers, marines, sailors, airmen? Their sacrifices were the same. But this post really is not about veterans. I'm not sure I can explain my point sufficiently although I will try. I think my shock with my dad was his feeling that the Desert Storm veterans had not earned the right to be treated with the same respect and appreciation that his generation had. I might add here that my dad's response to the Desert Storm veterans did an about face after that discussion and I have used it here as an example only.

Because of our painful experiences in life, should we not wish something better for anyone who is going through the same thing or should we take an 'it's not fair' approach?  Should we let those experiences make us compassionate for everyone in our position or should we become bitter and resentful that the outcome for others is not the same as ours? Should we wish good things only for our own or for anyone who has suffered as we have? Was salvation offered to the Jew alone or also to the Gentile? Is it our responsibility to share the Gospel with our countrymen alone or also with those of other nations?  If disaster strikes should we extend a helping hand to ours alone or to anyone in need? If it has been made impossible to extend help to our own should we then refuse to help the foreigner? If there are those who are hungry or naked should we ask where they were born before we offer food and clothing? If a child is in need of medical care that we can provide, should we offer it only to our own or also to the child that is not ours?

The United States of America has been and still is the most compassionate nation in the world. We are undergoing some dreadfully dangerous changes that the majority of us did not choose, but we still remain a nation of people with loving and giving hearts. As we prepare to celebrate the establishment of this great nation, let us remember that God has blessed us tremendously. As we look around at our fellow citizens, let us take note that we do not all look and sound the same but we are no less Americans. I am grateful to be born an American. I am proud to be an American. I am thrilled that my three year old grandson will celebrate his first Independence Day as an American. Because of the grace of God and the compassion of his parents, he has this opportunity - to be an American! So I pray that through our difficulties as a nation and as individuals, we will remain America The Compassionate.
                                                 

Happy Gotcha Day

One year ago today a precious little boy had his forever family. I was in Massachusetts when I got the e-mail from his mommy saying, "We've got him." What beautiful words they were to read. I cannot give thanks and praise enough to God for creating this child. He has brought so much love, laughter, joy, and gratefulness to our lives. To hear him say, "I love you" brings an emotion I cannot even describe. He is not the first of my grandchildren and hopefully not the last. Each one is unique and equally loved. But today is the first anniversary of Harrison's Gotcha Day, as it is called in the world of adoption.

He is all boy. Trucks and swords and playing loud and rough. He has learned English so well he has to be taught Mandarin again. He knows he is Chinese but he knows he is American. He told me the big remote is Chinese so it is his. Haha  He has a little Southern drawl that is more pronounced on some words than others. He knows he is loved.

It's funny how adopted children take on the personalities of their adoptive parents the same way biological children do. It's like God leaves a blank gene to absorb the characteristics of the new family, not the physical traits but definitely the personality and character traits. I know most will say that is learned behavior, but I think it is much more, much deeper than that. Watching one of his favorite movies with him is a repeat of watching movies with his daddy when he was a child. He is saying the script along with the characters. That used to drive his daddy's friends crazy. Many times I have said to him, "You are your father's child.".  Not to relate him only to his daddy, for I know the same applies to his mommy. As his paternal grandmother those are the things I recognize in him.

I don't want him to grow up too fast, but I understand there is no holding that back. So I cherish every moment with him, God has a purpose in bringing this child here, far above just to be a part of us. I know one day God will use him in a mighty way. I may not be here to see it, but I know it will be.

No Joking Matter..

This will be quite different from my regular posts. More serious, much darker, but it is something that concerns me as I watch people on this road of life. In fact it breaks my heart.

Have you ever heard someone talk about hell in a joking way? I am sure we all have. Some of us have been guilty of doing that before we became Christ followers. You know the sayings. "If you get there before I do, save me a seat". Or maybe, "See you there." Or  "All my friends will be there and we will party". And there are many others. I know from my own experience when I was a teen and lost in a world of unforgiveness, that those jokes were just a big show. What they actually showed was that I didn't want to think about the reality of going to hell. Too often what we fear, we joke about. But hell is no joking matter. I know some will say there is no hell, or hell is here on earth. If they truly believe it does not exist, why joke about it. Why address something that doesn't exist? No. There is a hell and it is not here on earth. Some people go through horrible things here, but it is no comparison to what hell will be like.  I know the questions too. "How do you know? Have you ever been?" Thankfully I have never been, nor will I have to go. But I am confident there is a hell. Not, Hades, the grave, but Gehenna, the place of fire and brimstone. This is a place that was prepared for Satan and his angels. A horrible place the human mind cannot even comprehend. Then there is the comment, "If God is love he would never send anyone to hell". God is love. He is also just. He does not send anyone to hell. It is a choice each one must make for themselves. Maybe you think, "No one would choose that". Unfortunately many, many have chosen, are choosing, and will choose hell. By rejecting the Christ who died for their sins, they choose hell.

I wonder sometimes what makes a person who once had a soft heart for God decide to no longer believe. Or one who was curious and interested in learning more suddenly become so anti-God. I know many excuses people use. "I was forced to go to church as a child." "Churches are full of hypocrites." "I don't need God to be a good person." I could go on and on with excuses I have heard. Not one of them is going to mean a thing when these people stand before the One True God. And they will stand before Him and they will bow the knees to Him. We are told in Phillipians 2:10 & 11
"That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth;
And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father". That is not speaking of only Christ followers. It speaks also of all those who reject him.

If you are reading this and are one of those who are rejecting Him, I beg you to open your hearts and minds to the leading of the Holy Spirit. Do you feel a stirring inside, an uneasiness that you can't explain? That is Him calling you. Please don't close you heart and mind and reject him still. Please, for it is no joking matter.