Extraordinary Wonder
The garden of Eden was the place of the extraordinary, of wonder. What was lost with the curse was that sense of wonder because what is seen here is only ordinary by comparison.
I feel God’s yearning for the extra-ordinary, that His creation, His children, would know the explosive vibrant beauty, the awe-immeasurable, the unique richness of every aspect of creation.
If only we knew the extraordinary wonder of what He created. Then we would all long for it again.
When the Valley is Darkest
“They are facing a real battle. Let’s pray for them.”
As a community centred around prayer, these requests often passed through our hands. But this time felt different.
The family had just gone through a devastating tragedy, one I could not even begin to understand. The pain, the loss, the confusion. I grieved with them over what they must be feeling and longed to be some sort of voice of comfort.
But, God, how should I pray? I’ve never experienced anything close to what they are going through.
He nudged me gently to Psalm 23.
Really, God? Can’t you give me something a little less cliché?
But He would not let it go. I flipped to the right page and started reading.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup overflows …”
Comfort.
The word stuck out at me as though it had been circled with a neon green highlighter. And suddenly, my understanding of that word erupted in my face.
What even is comfort? Images come to mind of a thick fleece blanket tucking me in with a plethora of goose feather pillows at my back. Or perhaps a luxurious car, or a first class ticket on a 9-hour flight. A life of ease, where obstacles and struggles are removed, and we are free to enjoy. No debt, no loss, no broken relationships and difficult circumstances. Isn’t this what we often mean when we ask for comfort?
God knows I have been guilty of praying for such ease, asking Him to strip away all my struggles. But there is no shortcut through the shadowy valley of death. Challenges will come. Obstacles will surprise us. And the valley is often longer than we expected.
But He didn’t promise a life of comfort. He promised to be the God of comfort. The One who walks with you through the valley of the shadow of death so that you never have to be alone. He promised to be your strength, your provider, your covering, so that you can overcome every battle.
If you are experiencing that dark valley right now, I pray that you would also experience the richness of His comfort. Not removing you from the situation, but strengthening you to journey through it with Him. May you encounter His covering of love and His provision of grace every step of the way. The God of comfort is walking with you!
Is Your Season Changing?
I love Fall. But then again, who doesn’t? Fall is one of those seasons were the change is significantly noticeable. The weather cools, the leaves turn color. Everyone dusts off their boots and scarfs. We know the joy that is coming. The season of hot, sticky Texas summer has ended and the season of all-things-pumpkin-cinnamon-ginger-goodness has begun.
Anticipation builds.
In the same way, I believe God wants to build our expectations at the change of every season. Not for pumpkin spice lattes, sweaters, and turkey, but for the adventures He has planned ahead for us.
One thing I’ve discovered is that God has a time and season for everything.
A time to travel and a time to stay put. A time to invest in others and a time to invest in yourself. A time to give and a time to receive. A time to dream big with God and a time to launch out into those dreams.
God loves working within the structure of seasons! Just look at how He created crop life cycles. I love asking Him what is in His heart for me as we journey together into the season ahead. It sharpens my focus so that I am not carrying into a new season what God has finished in the old. It aligns me so that I don’t target that which is unnecessary, but I target the priority.
September 20th marks the beginning of Rosh HaShanah, the Jewish New Year. While I may not be Jewish, I recognize the significance in one year ending and another beginning. New years mark new seasons in our lives, moving from the old chapter and onto a blank, fresh page. And the coming of Fall offers a visible reminder of that change which is ahead.
Do you know what season you are in?
Take time today to ask the Lord. Where does He want your focus to be in this next season? How does He desire to build anticipation for all He has planned for you to walk in these next days, weeks, and months?
In the Tent of a Refugee
For many years now, the Middle East has been on my heart. God is on the move here, and with the refugees He is creating a movement of peoples for His greater glory! This past month I have been privileged to not only witness, but to also play a part in that greater glory as we reached out to the refugees in Greece.
On this trip I met Syrians, Kurds, Iranians, Afghanis, Georgians, Nigerians, Kenyans, Sri Lankans, and a handful of other nationalities. But one Syrian Kurdish woman named Aria* stood out above all the rest. She had been bussed in to a church in Thessaloniki with many other refugees to attend the Sunday service.
Our team had been invited to pray with people and I was drawn to her. A large softball-sized lump protruded from her side, and I asked in broken Arabic if I could pray for healing. She allowed me to, but afterwards informed me with vigorous hand gestures that she believed in Mohammad and Allah; she was a strong Muslim. I smiled back. My God is not intimidated by this.
As we traveled the next day to the refugee camp in Idomeni, we were equipped with Arabic Bibles to hand out, but we were also strongly urged to use wisdom and be led by the Holy Spirit in knowing who to give them to. Our first priority was simply to shine the love and the light of Christ through our fellowship, our service, and our faces.
Here at the Idomeni camp, I again met Aria. This time, she invited my friend and I into her tent to meet all of her extended family and join them for tea. After a while, she pulled out a single white paper and handed it to me, the doctor’s diagnosis: cancer in her lymph nodes and spleen.
Instantly, my faith was challenged. I wanted to respond with prayer, but did I have faith for this? Do I pray for her again now that I know the diagnosis and how severe it is? I’ve prayed against cancer before, but somehow its different when you are face to face with the one who must suffer through that debilitating disease.
But in God’s eyes cancer is no more difficult than a deaf ear, or a leg that’s too short, and I’ve seen those healed. The scriptures say, “You do not have because you do not ask.” So I asked. Filled with overwhelming compassion for this precious woman, I explained in broken Arabic that I believed in a God who still heals today. And again she let me pray.
I didn’t see a miracle happen right then. But when I stood to leave later, I felt impressed to hug her and not let go. As I did, the Holy Spirit fell on her and she softened in my arms. Tears pooled on my shoulder. The door was cracking open and she at last was ready to receive. In Arabic, I whispered the words over and over, “Jesus loves you, He loves you!” Still she clung to me. Then I heard her whisper back in my ear, “Benti,” ‘my daughter’.
I was overwhelmed. Family is the center point of all Arab culture. For her to call me daughter, a stranger she had only had two interactions with, is significant beyond words. I offered her an Arabic Bible, and she gratefully accepted it.
I don’t know if she was healed that day or not. The lump did not dissolve, but the hard walls inside of her did. As great as a physical healing would have been, I witnessed something far greater in that moment—the victory of a woman whose heart was now opening to receive the love of Jesus!
“And if I have all prophetic powers, and understand
all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith,
so as to remove mountains, but have not love,
I am nothing.”
*name changed