So when I got ready Friday morning, I honestly didn't know until breakfast what direction I would be going. I soon found out that I would be hitting the trails one last time. The old "missionary-stage-fright" came over me once again but I told God I would do whatever he wanted me to do, so I took a deep breath and jumped in.
Truly, by this point on the trip I was wondering what I had left to give of myself. I felt tired and "spent" for lack of a better term. Perhaps this is exactly what God was waiting for; less of me so I could be filled with more of Him. I'm happy to report that I had an amazing time on the trails that day!
For the most part, my day was spent visiting people who were already Christians. I noticed that Peter was opening our visiting time in prayer more than usual so I asked him how he could tell who was a believer and who wasn't. He told me the first thing he did when he entered a home was to look at their walls for cues. He was right. By quickly looking at what people have hung on their walls you could determine who was a believer and who wasn't. There were believers in every home we visited that day (with the exception of the last home) who simply needed encouragement. For me, that can sometimes be harder than sharing the gospel because at least by this point on the trip, I'd had a lot of practice with it.
Each and every time I started a visit I thought to myself, "What on earth do you want me to share with this person, God? What kind of encouragement can I give them?" I'd look at that person and despite not having a CLUE as to what would come out, I'd open my mouth to speak. I just have to say that God gave me specific words of encouragement for each and every person I met that day! It was weird and wonderful all at the same time. Every visit was different and every encouragement seemed catered to that person's situation even before I knew fully what their situations were!
One such visit was with a young man named James. We made introductions, said a prayer and then I started talking about how hard it is to pray for something and not get the answer you want. Somehow I started telling James the story of Chrissie Patterson and how hard we all prayed and how full of faith we were that God was going to heal Chrissie but that God ended up taking her home to be with Him instead. Tears started flowing as I shared my heart about Chrissie and about my own struggle in trusting God's goodness and sovereignty even when it doesn't make sense to me.
[see http://allarepreciousinhissight.blogspot.com/ to read all about Chrissie and her amazing family]
James started crying with me, then said that he knew that God had brought me to his house because as of late, he had been struggling in his faith. He said that his prayer was that God would one day remember him. Then I shared about the prodigal son and pointed out that in this story it wasn't the Father who changed, it was the son who left. The father was still the father. When the son turned and headed towards home, it was the father who ran towards him - he was the one who bridged the distance, not the son. I assured James that the Father did, in fact, remember him and had only been waiting for him to turn towards home again.
Then our visit really got going. After we prayed together, I asked James if he had any questions or any other areas I could pray for him about. [I should mention here that James had excellent English and no translation was needed.]
"Why yes," James said, "In fact, my friends and I have been wondering about quite a few things lately." Then he pulled out a written list! He asked why believers still struggled with sin and temptation. He asked why more churches didn't teach directly from the Bible. We talked about God's love and character and what sin and repentance were all about. We talked about works vs. faith, etc. I'm sure I'm forgetting something here, but the point I want to make is that God lead me to scripture and gave me answers to each question James had. That's pretty amazing for this 44 year old brain and nothing short of a miracle from God! In one visit, I watched this young man go from being a tearful prodigal afraid he'd been forgotten by God to a hungry disciple desiring to know more and more of what God's Word says.
It was a really long visit that felt a little bit like a test for me - did I really know answers to James' questions (according to scripture) and did I really believe all that we talked about? By God's grace the answer was "yes". Peter and I were both energized by our visit with James and left there feeling like we were the ones who had been encouraged.
We were running late getting back to the church and quite frankly, we weren't sure how to get back. We were sort of walking through a maze that would periodically open up into someones farm where we would stop for another visit then ask directions. I only shared the gospel one time that day and it was in the last house we visited. Never before had sharing the gospel come so easily or with such eloquence. I don't say that in a prideful way - no, not at all because I completely recognize that it wasn't me doing the talking. The whole day had been too uncanny, too perfect, to have anything to do with my own abilities. Clearly, God was on the move. He also gave me a gift during that last visit; a picture of what repentance looks like.
The young father I was visiting with had a toddler sleeping in his lap with their head pressed against his chest. He did not hesitate to receive Christ and after we had prayed, I opened my eyes and saw that he was crying. Then God really opened my eyes to the scene before me. I opened my mouth and started telling him what I saw.
I told him that God's heart for us was a heart of love and that he held us close in his arms much like he (the young dad) was holding his own child. That was the relationship that God desires to have with us. Sometimes we act like fussy children who pull away and throw fits - that is our sin nature. Just as this young dad couldn't embrace his child while they pulled away, neither could God hold us close when we fitfully go about trying to do things our own way. Our sin (the fussiness in this analogy) separates us from that close relationship with the Father.
I asked him to remember a time when his own child had reached up to him with outstretched arms asking to be held. This was a picture of repentance. When we stop fitfully insisting on living life our own way and turn to the Father, he is quick to pick us up and hold us close to him once again - that is forgiveness. In fact, it is his pleasure to do so because he desires to hold us close once again. God's heart is a Father's heart of love towards his children who he adores.
Hmm. This whole thing was coming out of my mouth, but as the words came it was as if God were saying to my heart, "Julie, do you understand me now? Do you know how much I love you? Do you realize that repentance isn't punishment, but is a gift from a Father who loves you? Don't be afraid of it. I love to hold you close."
I can honestly say that I felt pure delight that day. With each visit I felt more and more as if God were walking with me, holding my hand, giving me words to speak. Is it possible that even though I was the one speaking encouragement to others I was also the one who received the most encouragement?
Dear God, please do not let me forget this beautiful day! No matter how old and senile I may one day be, please do not take this memory from my mind. Help me to enjoy the gift of repentance you have given me and let me feel your heartbeat day after day. I love you Lord and I thank you for my last day on the trails of Akala. - Amen
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| What a day! Peter, stop, I have to got to take a picture! |
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