Perspective. It is perhaps what has become most clear for me here in this static land that is at once both incredibly simple and exceedingly difficult. Much is as I anticipated: the hot days, the dusty, rutted streets; the masses of people darting in and out of traffic. I came hoping I would come to love the people, yet all the while assuming I would have a great distaste for the land. But it is not as I thought. Indeed, the people, particularly the children and their mothers, have captivated my heart, but driving home from Boromo, from our day in the bush, I was enthralled with the beauty of the African countryside, a sense of peace settled came with the setting sun, knowing God’s hand is upon this barrenly beautiful land.
Perhaps it was the joy of watching the children play, or teaching the women who, if given the opportunity, could teach me much as well, or perhaps it was just the knowing that here in Burkina Faso, God’s church is alive and well. I am so thankful God has granted me the privilege of coming, to teach the women, to laugh with the children and to share with you a glimpse of God’s church in Burkina.
I wasn’t sure what to expect as our plane made the final descent into Burkina. Loren had spoken of donkey drawn carts coming to gather our luggage and an airport that was reminiscent of a grade B movie set in the Banana Republic. I have to admit I was a bit disappointed when we were promptly shuttled from the plane to the newly finished immigration area, where friendly smiles and a newly installed luggage conveyor belt greeted us. Gone were the dim lights and donkey carts, although the swirling fans still clicked away overhead. And what is even more amazing, all of our luggage arrived, in tact.
They say much is changing in this country. For the first time, streetlights illuminate the main roads, scooter lanes and sidewalks now line the street. Yet much is still the same. Scooter drivers ignore the bike lane, choosing instead to play “hit me if you dare” as they dart in and out between the cars and trucks which speed down the road, randomly choosing which traffic signals to obey. This is made even all the more challenging with the rolling blackouts that affect the city periodically, causing all to go dark.
Life in Burkina is lived outdoors. Even at night the people were out; walking, riding, going here and there. I asked Scott and Loren and Ian to give me one word that describes Burkina. Perhaps Scott captured Oaugadougou best; “moving” was the word he used to invoke the feeling of the city. It seems everyone is always on the move. Like ants scurrying, each one knows their purpose but to the outside observer, it is simply chaos.
It should be no surprise then that our first few days here have been much the same, filled with movement and, at times, a bit of chaos. We arrived late at night only to learn the house that is always the haven for the TFAB Burkina trips was not going to be available, but “would we mind so much staying at the extra rooms at the back of the compound?” Being new to Burkina, I didn’t realize how important having “the house” was. Two nights and two different places later, I can tell you, it is VERY important. The rooms they suggested left one feeling very unsafe, especially if your mom is travelling for the first time to Africa, as there were no real locks on the doors and we would be separated from one another.
Marcel suggested a hotel that would be nearer his home. Since it is his town, we assumed it was a place he was well acquainted with. It was only as we travelled to Boromo the next day and saw a sign advertising the “Chic Hotel”, that he confessed he had never laid eyes on the place and had only chosen it because it was the first place that came to mind because he, too had seen the roadside sign advertising it some weeks prior. Such is life in Africa.
The paved highway of town gave way to one of the many rutted, unlit dirt stretches which abound, (I still struggle to call them roads). Bouncing our way past dirty, cluttered, tin storefronts, old stacked tires and the occasional roaming dog, we made a quick turn and arrived at our destination. Dim lights illuminated our way up the stairs to the 2nd floor where we each locked our double bolted doors and called it a night at least feeling somewhat secure, until Loren realized the window to his room had no latch or lock, it freely swung, back and forth, beckoning any who might want to enter. Welcome to Africa.
Morning found us moving to a new compound Marcel was somewhat familiar with. While not ideal, it seemed workable and have to do, since we were scheduled to be in Boromo, some 120 miles away, by 9 am that morning to teach the many pastors and leaders and their wives would be coming. We finally left Ouaga at 9:15, but, no worries, (remember, this is Africa) Marcel called ahead to let them know we would be a little bit late.
I am told the road from Ouga to Boromo and on to the Ivory Coast is one of the most important and heavily travelled roads in the entire country. After travelling it and living to tell about it, I have to agree. I hate to fly, just the mere hint of turbulance sends me into a semi-panic mode. But I would fly a thousand flights back and forth across the Atlantic before I would choose to be a passenger in a vehicle on the Boromo road again. Picture Highway 97 (only about 6 feet narrower) with no shoulders, no center strip and crumbling edges on both sides giving way to rugged ditches. Then add in scooters carrying everything from extra passengers to pigs going to market, bicycles travelling without lights and the occasional walker on the road. Now drive this at 70 miles per hour. Oh did I happen to mention the occasional semi-trucks that are broken down and stopped, dead center in the middle of the road? All quite manageable in the bright sunlight of late morning, but absolutely nail biting in the darkness of night.
Tomorrow we will travel north on a highway which Marcel assures me “is far better, have much less traffic”. Then on Friday we will go again, twice the distance that we went on Tuesday. Funny, when I thought about all the things I might be afraid of in Africa, riding in a van was not one of them. It never crossed my mind, and I think it would be safe to say the thought never entered Scott’s head as well. Until last night, after we finished up at late dinner at 10 pm, thinking we had survived the worst of what the Burkina roads had to offer. But on the way back, we were travelling the paved city streets, travelling 55 mph at minimum I would say, when we heard a yell from the front just as the van careened over a large speed bump, landing and continuing on only to hit a second in just a moment’s time.
Let me just say, the back of the van is not the place you want to be at a time such as this. The chickens in back were squawking (yes, they gave us two at the church where we spoke), but it was Scott who had suffered the most trauma. He was bleeding from the wound inflicted when his head met the ceiling, not once but twice. Much debate erupted over whether or not we should take him to “La Clinique”, which we all knew could be a cure worse than the cause.
After closer examination, we decided to take go to a local pharmacy to buy the items we felt would be necessary to properly dress his wound, all the while so keenly aware that this is Africa, and there are millions of little bugs lurking everywhere, just waiting for the chance to enter some poor unsuspecting persons body. A bottle of antiseptic, a roll of gauze and a purchase of antibiotics later, we all poured back into the van, eager to get home and tend to our wounded only to find the vehicle would not start. Did I happen to mention we had expected just a quick stop and were parked in the road?
With Scott clutching tightly to the gauze patch on his head with one hand and holding his headlamp in the other, he walked behind the van as the other men worked to maneuver the vehicle backwards to a spot where they could get it off the road. This in a place where there were no streetlights and no open stores, save for “La Pharmicia”. While Marcel called a mechanic friend to come look at the car, (remember it is almost midnight now) Loren went back into the pharmacy to purchase sterile gloves so he could administer first aide there under the blinking pharmacy sign. We had acquired quite a little audience by this time, had it not been so late I am sure Marcel would have figured out some way to tell those who gathered about Jesus. As it was, the mechanic arrived and Marcel used his car to drive us to our rooms, where we all fell into an exhausted sleep.
Today has been a good day. I am happy to report that Scott’s head looked great this morning and as far as we can tell, he is his normal, chipper self . Today has been a very good day. I am also delighted to tell you that tonight, we are in “the house”. What a difference in perspective two days makes. If you had led me here the first night, I think I would have looked at the place we were staying and wondered how I would survive two weeks there. Now I look around and say, “Thank you Lord, for providing us with such a place.” As Loren says, now he feels like he is home.
So by now you might be asking, “How is that you have come to love this place which has presented you with so many difficulties?” That, my friends is the rest of the story, which will have to wait until tomorrow’s post….. IF I return from the road to Kongoussi.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Africa Trip 2012: The Beginning
I am leaving for Africa in less than a week. I have told that to some of the important people in my life this week; the Starbucks barista, my nail tech, the pharmacist. Invariably they ask if I am going on a safari, and will I get to see some exotic animals? “Not really," I tell them, “unless you consider geckos and mosquitoes and rats to be exotic.” That always gives them pause. Anxious to move on to the next customer but still a bit curious they usually ask, “Then why are you going?”
And therein lies a story….
I was saved through the ministry of Good News Club when I was just eight years old. No one in my family at that time was a believer, but as a young teen-ager I began attending an Assembly of God church in Grants Pass, Oregon. One of the highlights of their church year was the annual missions convention, where different missionaries would converge to share their stories and pictures, hoping to gain financial support for the following term. They came… from Indonesia and South America and Mexico, but the ones I remember most were the missionaries from Africa. Night after night I would sit and listen to their tales and gaze at their slides, and from that early age I knew one thing….I NEVER wanted to go to Africa!
I grew up and went away to Bible college, where many of my classmates were training for the mission field. For some reason, most of the ones I came into contact with had one country in mind, Africa. I was quite thankful, as I figured if all of them were going, God would never need to send me.
A song that came out in the early 90s kind of summed up my sentiment; done by Scott Wesley Brown (you can catch it on You-Tube), it went like this, “Please don’t send me to Africa, I don’t think I’ve got what it takes. I’m just a man I’m not a Tarzan, I don’t like lions, gorillas or snakes. I’ll serve you here in suburbia in my comfortable middle class life. But please don’t send me out into the bush where the natives are restless at night.”
I could go on, but you get the picture. I have travelled many places …Israel, Greece, Turkey, Italy, England, Scotland, Spain, France, Mexico, the Caribbean and Canada, not to mention most of the fifty states, but you will notice they all have one thing in common…they are NOT Africa.
So it was I was sitting in the Sunday morning service at TFAB earlier this year when Marcel, from Burkina Faso, Africa, shared a message with the congregation. Honestly, I cannot even remember what the message was about, all I recall is when he was finished speaking and we started to pray, I heard a voice whisper, “I want you to go to Africa next year.” Since I knew that could not possibly be a message for me, I glanced around to see who might be the intended recipient.
But then I heard it again, “Robyn, I want YOU to go to Burkina Faso and teach the women.” It wasn’t an audible voice…indeed, it was much stronger than that. There have been only a few times in my life when I knew that I knew God had spoken directly to me, and this was one of them.
I quickly thought of ALL the reasons I could not go. I don’t do well with dust or heat or smoke or smells and I really DON’T like to fly. Pitiful, I know. I am so thankful that God is patient and gracious with us. Before the service ended I knew….I WAS going to Africa in 2012.
Several months later as I was preparing for the regimen of shots and pills necessary to make the trip to Africa half-way safe, the craziness of what I was doing hit home. I was sitting in my easy chair early one morning and again presented my case to God. I have to be honest, I really didn’t want to go. The thought of flying was terrifying, the thought of spending two weeks in a country that, as Loren says, “Is trying to kill you” just did not sound appealing. Surely God had something just as important here for me to do.
I began reading in the Word where I had left off the prior day, 2nd Corinthians chapter 11. If you are ever feeling sorry for yourself, thinking life is a bit hard, read about all that Paul endured for the sake of the gospel. I was humbled and ashamed. While my life has not been without difficulties, I have never actually chosen to put myself in a position that was way outside of my comfort zone. I reflected on all that the new testament Christians endured to proclaim the name of Jesus and I knew, I WAS going to Africa in 2012.
That was a turning point. I moved from despair at the thought of going to acceptance, knowing God does all things well and I could trust Him to be doing what he deemed absolutely best. I began to pray for the people of Africa, for the women I would be meeting and teaching and for the children I would get to put my arms around and love. I downloaded a picture of a group of children from one of the past TFAB mission trips, making it the focal point of my computer desktop. Their smiles found their way into my heart, and I began to pray for them and for all the churches in Burkina. I began preparing the teachings I would be presenting, and I found myself getting really engaged and excited about what God would have me to share.
What started out as an act of obedience had now become a labor of love. I was amazed to realize I was actually anticipating, with great joy, my upcoming trip. I was going to Africa, and I couldn’t be more delighted. In my mind, God had already worked a mighty miracle.
Now we are just one week out and in spite of my excitement, I find the fear creeping back in. It has kept me awake the past couple of nights, my mind running wild with all the “what ifs?” Can I really get on that plane next Saturday and fly to that place which has always been so frightening to me? Can I leave the comfort of home for the unknown of a place half way around the world?
Early morning today found me back in my chair by the fire, pondering these very questions. It would be so easy, just a phone call to say I could not do it. God would still love me, my family would understand. And then the picture of Jude, my grandson, came up on our digital photo viewer and I was reminded of a conversation we had just last week.
We had pulled into the garage where Grandpa’s boat is resting for the winter. Jude looked at it and informed his sister “That is Grandpa’s boat, he catches really big fishies, Mary-Jane!”
Our dialogue ensued, “Jude, Are you going to go out in the boat with Grandpa next summer and catch big fishies too?”
“I don’t want to go out in Grandpa’s boat,” came the firm reply.
“Why not, Jude?”, I asked.
“I might fall in the water, Grandma. I don’t want to catch a fish, let Mary-Jane have my pole and she can catch the fishy.”
I reasoned with him, I told him we would watch over him. But NOTHING I said could change his mind, he has determined he would rather not catch a big fishy than to risk falling in the water.
The memory of that conversation played loudly in my mind this morning as I sat there, floundering in my own fears. I could just imagine the conversation.
“Robyn, why don’t you want to get on the big plane and go to Africa?
“I am afraid, Father. The plane might crash or I might get very sick, or even die.”
“I will watch over you, daughter.”
Like Jude, I am afraid. But as I hope Jude will one day do, I am listening to the voice of one who loves me, who is telling me He watches over me, He will keep me, He is with me always. I have made my choice. I will put my trust in the one who loved me enough to give His life for me.
I covet your prayers for this journey, I will continue to write, Lord willing, that you might share in the joy of what God is doing for His people there in Burkina Faso.
In the mean time, I will have more conversations with more people this week. I will tell them, “I am leaving for Africa in less than a week.” And when they ask why, I will say, “Let me tell you a story….”
And therein lies a story….
I was saved through the ministry of Good News Club when I was just eight years old. No one in my family at that time was a believer, but as a young teen-ager I began attending an Assembly of God church in Grants Pass, Oregon. One of the highlights of their church year was the annual missions convention, where different missionaries would converge to share their stories and pictures, hoping to gain financial support for the following term. They came… from Indonesia and South America and Mexico, but the ones I remember most were the missionaries from Africa. Night after night I would sit and listen to their tales and gaze at their slides, and from that early age I knew one thing….I NEVER wanted to go to Africa!
I grew up and went away to Bible college, where many of my classmates were training for the mission field. For some reason, most of the ones I came into contact with had one country in mind, Africa. I was quite thankful, as I figured if all of them were going, God would never need to send me.
A song that came out in the early 90s kind of summed up my sentiment; done by Scott Wesley Brown (you can catch it on You-Tube), it went like this, “Please don’t send me to Africa, I don’t think I’ve got what it takes. I’m just a man I’m not a Tarzan, I don’t like lions, gorillas or snakes. I’ll serve you here in suburbia in my comfortable middle class life. But please don’t send me out into the bush where the natives are restless at night.”
I could go on, but you get the picture. I have travelled many places …Israel, Greece, Turkey, Italy, England, Scotland, Spain, France, Mexico, the Caribbean and Canada, not to mention most of the fifty states, but you will notice they all have one thing in common…they are NOT Africa.
So it was I was sitting in the Sunday morning service at TFAB earlier this year when Marcel, from Burkina Faso, Africa, shared a message with the congregation. Honestly, I cannot even remember what the message was about, all I recall is when he was finished speaking and we started to pray, I heard a voice whisper, “I want you to go to Africa next year.” Since I knew that could not possibly be a message for me, I glanced around to see who might be the intended recipient.
But then I heard it again, “Robyn, I want YOU to go to Burkina Faso and teach the women.” It wasn’t an audible voice…indeed, it was much stronger than that. There have been only a few times in my life when I knew that I knew God had spoken directly to me, and this was one of them.
I quickly thought of ALL the reasons I could not go. I don’t do well with dust or heat or smoke or smells and I really DON’T like to fly. Pitiful, I know. I am so thankful that God is patient and gracious with us. Before the service ended I knew….I WAS going to Africa in 2012.
Several months later as I was preparing for the regimen of shots and pills necessary to make the trip to Africa half-way safe, the craziness of what I was doing hit home. I was sitting in my easy chair early one morning and again presented my case to God. I have to be honest, I really didn’t want to go. The thought of flying was terrifying, the thought of spending two weeks in a country that, as Loren says, “Is trying to kill you” just did not sound appealing. Surely God had something just as important here for me to do.
I began reading in the Word where I had left off the prior day, 2nd Corinthians chapter 11. If you are ever feeling sorry for yourself, thinking life is a bit hard, read about all that Paul endured for the sake of the gospel. I was humbled and ashamed. While my life has not been without difficulties, I have never actually chosen to put myself in a position that was way outside of my comfort zone. I reflected on all that the new testament Christians endured to proclaim the name of Jesus and I knew, I WAS going to Africa in 2012.
That was a turning point. I moved from despair at the thought of going to acceptance, knowing God does all things well and I could trust Him to be doing what he deemed absolutely best. I began to pray for the people of Africa, for the women I would be meeting and teaching and for the children I would get to put my arms around and love. I downloaded a picture of a group of children from one of the past TFAB mission trips, making it the focal point of my computer desktop. Their smiles found their way into my heart, and I began to pray for them and for all the churches in Burkina. I began preparing the teachings I would be presenting, and I found myself getting really engaged and excited about what God would have me to share.
What started out as an act of obedience had now become a labor of love. I was amazed to realize I was actually anticipating, with great joy, my upcoming trip. I was going to Africa, and I couldn’t be more delighted. In my mind, God had already worked a mighty miracle.
Now we are just one week out and in spite of my excitement, I find the fear creeping back in. It has kept me awake the past couple of nights, my mind running wild with all the “what ifs?” Can I really get on that plane next Saturday and fly to that place which has always been so frightening to me? Can I leave the comfort of home for the unknown of a place half way around the world?
Early morning today found me back in my chair by the fire, pondering these very questions. It would be so easy, just a phone call to say I could not do it. God would still love me, my family would understand. And then the picture of Jude, my grandson, came up on our digital photo viewer and I was reminded of a conversation we had just last week.
We had pulled into the garage where Grandpa’s boat is resting for the winter. Jude looked at it and informed his sister “That is Grandpa’s boat, he catches really big fishies, Mary-Jane!”
Our dialogue ensued, “Jude, Are you going to go out in the boat with Grandpa next summer and catch big fishies too?”
“I don’t want to go out in Grandpa’s boat,” came the firm reply.
“Why not, Jude?”, I asked.
“I might fall in the water, Grandma. I don’t want to catch a fish, let Mary-Jane have my pole and she can catch the fishy.”
I reasoned with him, I told him we would watch over him. But NOTHING I said could change his mind, he has determined he would rather not catch a big fishy than to risk falling in the water.
The memory of that conversation played loudly in my mind this morning as I sat there, floundering in my own fears. I could just imagine the conversation.
“Robyn, why don’t you want to get on the big plane and go to Africa?
“I am afraid, Father. The plane might crash or I might get very sick, or even die.”
“I will watch over you, daughter.”
Like Jude, I am afraid. But as I hope Jude will one day do, I am listening to the voice of one who loves me, who is telling me He watches over me, He will keep me, He is with me always. I have made my choice. I will put my trust in the one who loved me enough to give His life for me.
I covet your prayers for this journey, I will continue to write, Lord willing, that you might share in the joy of what God is doing for His people there in Burkina Faso.
In the mean time, I will have more conversations with more people this week. I will tell them, “I am leaving for Africa in less than a week.” And when they ask why, I will say, “Let me tell you a story….”
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
A New Hope
This is the forty-first and final segment in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
Jan 1, 2010
A new year, a new hope. The doctor said, “Congratulations!” I simply say, “Thank you Lord!”
I cannot begin to understand your great mercy, so with empty hands I humbly come and kneel before you. Thank you Lord, you have heard the cry of this broken heart and given, indeed, “many more sunrises.”
I do not know why you chose to heal me when I see so many walking through so much, I am truly humbled Lord. Accomplish your purpose in me, may I never forget what you have revealed to this fragile soul. May I ever live to declare that you are God, there is none like you. I join with all creation in declaring that you alone are worthy of all praise.... my Creator, my Savior, my King.
Jan 1, 2010
A new year, a new hope. The doctor said, “Congratulations!” I simply say, “Thank you Lord!”
I cannot begin to understand your great mercy, so with empty hands I humbly come and kneel before you. Thank you Lord, you have heard the cry of this broken heart and given, indeed, “many more sunrises.”
I do not know why you chose to heal me when I see so many walking through so much, I am truly humbled Lord. Accomplish your purpose in me, may I never forget what you have revealed to this fragile soul. May I ever live to declare that you are God, there is none like you. I join with all creation in declaring that you alone are worthy of all praise.... my Creator, my Savior, my King.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Amen and Amen
This is the fortieth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
December 31, 2009
Thank you, Lord, for a night of sweet rest. Surely you alone have brought peace to my heart. This morning I ask that peace will continue to reign as I hear from the doctor what lot you have chosen for me. This I know, because of you, I have a beautiful inheritance.
Whispers again this morning, Lord….glimpses of life yet to be lived. And yet, as you continue putting together the pieces in the puzzle of my life, creating the perfect picture you have already pre-destined, if you touch and bring healing, how do I not become as Hezekiah….desperate before and then, after the touch of your hand, full of pride because of what you have done.
Praise is the antidote to pride….Psalm 150 declares it. As long as I have breath, I will praise you oh God! No matter what today’s word, no matter the prognosis. “I will sing unto the Lord as long as I live, I will give praise to my God while I have breath in me!”
Oh Lord, whether it is pride in “walking strong” with you or pride in that you would chose to extend your merciful hand of healing to me…cast it away Lord! I bow before you, I humble myself before you. Keep me humble oh God, may I ever find myself kneeling before you!
Oh God, heal to show your great glory….humble me to show your mighty majesty. May the days of being boastful or proud in that which you alone have given….wisdom, provision, strength….may I always know and proclaim it is all from your hand. You ARE the Alpha and Omega of this world and of my life. Amen and Amen.
December 31, 2009
Thank you, Lord, for a night of sweet rest. Surely you alone have brought peace to my heart. This morning I ask that peace will continue to reign as I hear from the doctor what lot you have chosen for me. This I know, because of you, I have a beautiful inheritance.
Whispers again this morning, Lord….glimpses of life yet to be lived. And yet, as you continue putting together the pieces in the puzzle of my life, creating the perfect picture you have already pre-destined, if you touch and bring healing, how do I not become as Hezekiah….desperate before and then, after the touch of your hand, full of pride because of what you have done.
Praise is the antidote to pride….Psalm 150 declares it. As long as I have breath, I will praise you oh God! No matter what today’s word, no matter the prognosis. “I will sing unto the Lord as long as I live, I will give praise to my God while I have breath in me!”
Oh Lord, whether it is pride in “walking strong” with you or pride in that you would chose to extend your merciful hand of healing to me…cast it away Lord! I bow before you, I humble myself before you. Keep me humble oh God, may I ever find myself kneeling before you!
Oh God, heal to show your great glory….humble me to show your mighty majesty. May the days of being boastful or proud in that which you alone have given….wisdom, provision, strength….may I always know and proclaim it is all from your hand. You ARE the Alpha and Omega of this world and of my life. Amen and Amen.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
You Are God
This is the thirty-ninth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
December 30, 2009
Peace pervades my heart tonight Father, thank you!
Anxious this morning, yes…..for fear of the unknown still held sway. But tonight I am at rest. You have given quiet to my body and my soul, may it last tonight and into the morning.
You are God and there is none like unto you. This is what I have come to know this past two months…..You are awesome and mighty; merciful and kind, your steadfast love is eternal. In you I place my life, oh Lord, you know my heart, you know my request. Jesus, my great high priest, I ask you to petition our Father with your perfect prayer for me this night.
I wait for you Lord…as the watchman for the morning. It has been a good journey….I will continue to follow….even as you carry me.
December 30, 2009
Peace pervades my heart tonight Father, thank you!
Anxious this morning, yes…..for fear of the unknown still held sway. But tonight I am at rest. You have given quiet to my body and my soul, may it last tonight and into the morning.
You are God and there is none like unto you. This is what I have come to know this past two months…..You are awesome and mighty; merciful and kind, your steadfast love is eternal. In you I place my life, oh Lord, you know my heart, you know my request. Jesus, my great high priest, I ask you to petition our Father with your perfect prayer for me this night.
I wait for you Lord…as the watchman for the morning. It has been a good journey….I will continue to follow….even as you carry me.
Monday, December 6, 2010
You Alone Are Able
This is the thirty-eighth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
December 29, 2009
I feel as the three young men of Israel this morning, Lord. As Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego faced the fiery furnace, then proclaimed…in faith…in knowing you…”Know this, our God whom we serve IS able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace and he will deliver us out of your hand. But if not, be it known to you, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image you have set up.
That IS the place of my heart this morning Lord, as I come to the end of this part of my journey. I know you are able to heal me, I know you have already delivered me from the hand of the enemy, for heaven awaits where there will be no more sickness, no more death. But here and now, I know you are able and I am asking that you deliver me from this enemy which has invaded my body. Even so, no matter what you have chosen, I will worship you for you alone are God.
I admire King Hezekiah. Much like the three who walked with you in the fire, he is under fire from without and within. When his enemies openly mocked you and his own people had no faith in you he did not trust in chariots and horses, but rather he made his petition known to you. He spread out before you the reports, the letters, the threats and then….he prayed. And you answered. I too spread out the report, the CT scans done and yet to come and I ask that you deliver me, for you alone can destroy the enemy that threatens……
Is that your whisper I hear again Lord…..a strong voice that proclaims, “Because you have prayed….because you have cast yourself upon me as your only hope…because you have received the trust, the hope, the faith I have offered….because I AM the one who determines all, who knows all….”This year you shall eat what grows of itself and in the second year what springs from that. Then in the third year sow and reap and plant vineyards and eat their fruit. You shall again take root downward and bear fruit upward.”
Lord, I do not know how, but I do believer you have shown me I will see many more sunrises here, in the land of the living and I shall again take root downward and bear fruit. I rejoice in your promise but more, I rejoice in you!
December 29, 2009
I feel as the three young men of Israel this morning, Lord. As Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego faced the fiery furnace, then proclaimed…in faith…in knowing you…”Know this, our God whom we serve IS able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace and he will deliver us out of your hand. But if not, be it known to you, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image you have set up.
That IS the place of my heart this morning Lord, as I come to the end of this part of my journey. I know you are able to heal me, I know you have already delivered me from the hand of the enemy, for heaven awaits where there will be no more sickness, no more death. But here and now, I know you are able and I am asking that you deliver me from this enemy which has invaded my body. Even so, no matter what you have chosen, I will worship you for you alone are God.
I admire King Hezekiah. Much like the three who walked with you in the fire, he is under fire from without and within. When his enemies openly mocked you and his own people had no faith in you he did not trust in chariots and horses, but rather he made his petition known to you. He spread out before you the reports, the letters, the threats and then….he prayed. And you answered. I too spread out the report, the CT scans done and yet to come and I ask that you deliver me, for you alone can destroy the enemy that threatens……
Is that your whisper I hear again Lord…..a strong voice that proclaims, “Because you have prayed….because you have cast yourself upon me as your only hope…because you have received the trust, the hope, the faith I have offered….because I AM the one who determines all, who knows all….”This year you shall eat what grows of itself and in the second year what springs from that. Then in the third year sow and reap and plant vineyards and eat their fruit. You shall again take root downward and bear fruit upward.”
Lord, I do not know how, but I do believer you have shown me I will see many more sunrises here, in the land of the living and I shall again take root downward and bear fruit. I rejoice in your promise but more, I rejoice in you!
Sunday, December 5, 2010
A Plea for Mercy
This is the thirty-seventh in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
December 28, 2009
Today, Oh God, I need you to heal this heart which is breaking with fear and to bind up the wounds which have afflicted me. You who numbered the stars, who prepares the rain, who cares for the sparrow, who gives food to the hungry and gives protection to your people, from you, oh God, I plead for mercy. I know it is not of my own worth or merit or accomplishments that I can come before you this morning, but it is solely because of your steadfast love.
Your delight, oh Lord, is not in the strength of horses nor is your pleasure in the leap of a man, but you take pleasure in those who fear you, in those who hope in your steadfast love. You know my heart. You know the self-willed bent of my soul, the pride in my life, the thoughts which come. Forgive, oh Lord, I cast myself at your feet… as the Syro-Phoenician woman, asking only for the crumbs which fall. For so long I have thought myself worthy to sit at your table, but you have opened my eyes to who I am.
Yes, I will one day be seated at the marriage feast of the lamb, but it is only because of what you have done. I have nothing to offer but empty hands, nothing to wear but the robe of righteousness you gave, nothing to share but the story of salvation….continue to take the blinders from eyes, oh Lord. I do not like the pain, but I embrace your plan, for in the fellowship of suffering, I am seeing you.
December 28, 2009
Today, Oh God, I need you to heal this heart which is breaking with fear and to bind up the wounds which have afflicted me. You who numbered the stars, who prepares the rain, who cares for the sparrow, who gives food to the hungry and gives protection to your people, from you, oh God, I plead for mercy. I know it is not of my own worth or merit or accomplishments that I can come before you this morning, but it is solely because of your steadfast love.
Your delight, oh Lord, is not in the strength of horses nor is your pleasure in the leap of a man, but you take pleasure in those who fear you, in those who hope in your steadfast love. You know my heart. You know the self-willed bent of my soul, the pride in my life, the thoughts which come. Forgive, oh Lord, I cast myself at your feet… as the Syro-Phoenician woman, asking only for the crumbs which fall. For so long I have thought myself worthy to sit at your table, but you have opened my eyes to who I am.
Yes, I will one day be seated at the marriage feast of the lamb, but it is only because of what you have done. I have nothing to offer but empty hands, nothing to wear but the robe of righteousness you gave, nothing to share but the story of salvation….continue to take the blinders from eyes, oh Lord. I do not like the pain, but I embrace your plan, for in the fellowship of suffering, I am seeing you.
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