Who Will Believe Me?
While I was
traveling to visit the teams in Africa and India, I didn’t always have access
to a computer or internet. I can say
that it was a freeing experience in more ways than one. How dependent I have become on
broadband-speed communication, whether it’s emailing or texting. So instead of emailing or skype-ing all my
thoughts away into cyberspace, I oft grabbed a black-inked pen and my journal,
and scribbled cursive prayers and thoughts.
Here are
some of the things I recorded in that journal.
This is my way of wrapping up the time of traveling, in a blog.
“Please
call them to the impossible tasks that need your grace. Call them to nothing that they could do on
their own. Let them all go on to inspire/equip/send young people to the
nations, rebuilding communities.” Before outreach, praying for the teams
“After this
I looked, and there before me was a door standing open in heaven. And the voice I had first heard speaking to
me like a trumpet, said, ‘Come up here, and I will show you what must take
place after this.’” Jesus to John, in Revelation 4:1-2
“Even
though God spoke to me through an incredible prayer time today, one moment I
will hold in my heart is when I rocked a baby to sleep in my arms during a
meeting. There is nothing like that, Lord.” During
the WELC in the Netherlands
“We are
flying over Iran,
and I remember an email I got from a friend saying to ask God about the
countries while you are flying over them.
Just now we are over Karaj and Tehran, Iran. I feel like a spirit of DESPAIR hangs over
this place. I am crying…and I will
continue to pray against despair which hangs over these people. Use me, Lord!
I am high in the air, but how much more grand is your view point?” On the
plane to India
“And now we
fly over Karachi, Pakistan. I see the city’s lights. I sense rejection clinging to them. ‘O, afflicted city, lashed by storms and not
comforted…’ Isaiah 54.” On the plane to India; I couldn’t believe
how close I was to Pakistan
“Let me
have a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, and…something about glory.” Praying for outreach teams
“This
morning, God of my life, I am very tired, even after sleeping soundly. My body, soul, and spirit—none of them will
wake up! I know you have much for me today, because it is a day and you are in
it. You are to be found today, in great
portions.” Early morning, Dehli
“I own
nothing; I borrow everything.”
“It’s like
the stories of old are our stories, too.”
“God is
never, ever tired.”
“Today I
woke up and asked God, ‘Ok—what’s today going to be like? What do I need to
know?’ And He responded, ‘Be patient and observe.’ So I am. And it’s really hard.”
“Your love
is rushing from the throne on which you reign.
It is giving me life, all the time.”
Insights
about “wisdom” from the book of James:
“Wisdom is submissive, longs to be under authority, loves to have
permission, cannot function outside of partnership, takes every chance to be
‘less than.’”
“For the Kingdom of God is not a matter of talk, but of
power. What do you prefer? Shall I come to you with a whip, or in love
and with a gentle spirit?” Paul writing to the church in Corinth
“Things I
have known in India: a corner always
reeking of human urine, a cow dozing in a rush hour intersection, a young girl
scooting and hopping and begging—left with no left leg after a train accident, a
father carrying his naked son who has a wound seeping with yellow infection,
smells of curry, the ring of bicycle rickshaws, the wrapping of fabric.”
“With all
of my heart, I hunger for you. All I
want and all I seek is true intimacy.
Here I am, waiting, Lord; touch me now, like never before. Let me change; be transformed. True intimacy is what I’m longing for.” Eoghan
Heaslip, worship leader
“I loved
all their dry hands; I loved holding them.
I loved their eyes. I loved how
they played. It suites them better than begging. They should be children. They shouldn’t have to wait to eat until 2
a.m. when the restaurants throw their scraps in the dumpsters.” After
playing with some beautiful children in Dehli
“Before I
slept last night I was praying for this boy I fell in love with yesterday. He’s about three or four years old, begs on
the street, has a constant runny nose and his (even belted!) trousers sag below
his bare bum. I asked God in prayer,
‘God, could you share with me your desire for this boy?’ There was a hesitancy, but a grin. And I heard, ‘The Taj Mahal itself is not
great enough for him.’”
“Return to
your fortress, O prisoners of hope.”
Zechariah 9:12
“Our plane
to Nairobi
experienced a bit of technical problems (like trying to land on not-the-runway
during a thunderstorm) and we landed in this place. It’s my first ever taste of muggy Kenya. The Kenyans have wasted no time in endearing
themselves to me. The angry and
grace-less white people, however, are making my skin crawl with the
similarities we share in skin color. Would it be rude to say, “I’m not with
them”? ” Excuse my tone here; but you would have been shocked to see how some
people acted in a situation that was completely out of their control, as we sat
in the empty Mombasa airport for a few hours.
“Today when
we were at Lake Tanganica,
we could see the magnificent hills and mountains of the Congo, misting
skirts around their ankles, on the foot of the not-so-distant beaches. The mystic moment was disturbed when someone
quoted the UN’s report: 1,000 die in that part of the Congo daily,
due to the violence. My reaction at the
time was fairly practical and I said aloud something trite, like Bless the Congo. But a few bottles of passion fruit juice
later, as the sun was setting over those same mountains and the mist increased
and hid them, I suddenly found my heart gagging in my throat. I spun my heel in the sand and faced again
the mountains…” In the first few hours of arriving in Bujumbura, Burundi
“Word of
the day: Reassure.”
“’N’amahoro’
is the Kirundi word meaning ‘We have peace.’ It is good to work within peace.
My soul is at peace with God. My soul knows its way through peace.”
“On the way
here to this rural church in Burundi
to speak to the parishioners here, I saw children in dirt-stained clothing,
squatting by the side of the road. I saw
a young, emaciated boy who had a Notre Dame sweatshirt on—a man’s XL. The shirt sloped off his shoulder and dragged
at his feet. It was for me, as the book
says, ‘The Tipping Point.’ I felt sickened to my core. I imagined a potato-chip
eating sports fan, his eyes glued to the TV, as his wife takes a load of his
clothes to Goodwill. I want to bring
that man to Burundi
and thank him for his kind contribution against poverty. Thank you, my Fighting Irish fan—keep up the
generosity…Oh man. I have a lot of
anger, actually. A lot of anger.” Has
anyone else ever been here before? I’ve been all the characters above. I’ve judged them all. I’ve had less grace for some. Lord, have mercy.
“Why hadn’t
I thought about it before? Surely, poverty is more than meets the eyes—more
than the yellowed eyes, the green mucus, the bloated bellies of
starvation.” God revealing to me in prayer about poverty.
“Forgiveness
is letting go of condemning the other person.”
A response to “What is forgiveness
to you?” in Buye, Burundi
“What do
you do in a place where the kids aren’t sucking on sweets, but sweetie wrappers? (And it probably fell from my
bag.)” After being in a church in Buye.
“Who will
believe me?” Wondering about the things I’m learning/observing | 
