New song post (check out the new podcast link on the side "Podbean") --->
It's a "Kyrie" from Haiti.
Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Tuesday, 9 February 2010
Monday, 4 August 2008
Love...
Since returning, I have had a couple conversations that have helped me see deeper into what God is speaking to me. If I've been this affected by what I perceive as God's disinterest in my desires, I must really have an inaccurate view of God. Like, you know how people tend to pray more when we're in trouble or when we have needs? Well, I think I've been viewing that as a serious fault, that I have to be at a level where I just converse with God all the time. It has been brought to my attention that God loves to help and doesn't look down on me when I ask for help. (James 1:5)
Then, I have realized that a discussion we had at our church small group awhile back affected me and how I perceived God's bothering about my life--or lack thereof. Well, someone in Brazil pointed out Psalm 37:23 in her version that says, "The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives."
Being on a YWAM base, around DTS students and around a church team really served to point out to me just how cynical I have become. I don't just "follow hard" after God anymore, uninhibited. I am guarded. I look at others and their expressions of worship and service with criticism. When I reflect on my own DTS nearly ten years ago, I tend to think of myself as so much more advanced and mature now. Less naive. But now I am thinking, what's wrong with a little innocence? What's wrong with a little recklessness? Sure I am still a quiet Canadian who really has no desire to run around shouting, "Gloria a Deus!" all the time and I'm pretty sure I'm not cut out for praying in my room for hours a day, but does that mean I should look at others who do this as folks somehow missing something that I have?! What?! What do I have? Well, I have the gift to be able to lead others in worship while not actually being able to worship God myself. How special is that?! Sounds kinda fake. Seriously, if people are acting out of love, then their actions must be good. I need to take a lesson about following hard after God. Again.
There was a song that I honestly and deeply sang nine years ago that wholly expressed how I felt about God. "You are my passion. Love of my life. Friend and companion, my lover. All of my being longs for your touch. With all my heart, I love you. Now will you draw me close to you? Gather me in your arms. Let me feel the beating of your heart. Oh my Jesus. Oh my Jesus." At some point, I decided the song was too sappy and I don't feel that it has been my song in a long time.
There was a man on the team who sincerely has had a real revelation of the Love of God. Every time he talks about God's love, he is overcome with emotion. And with this revelation he has, God has blessed him to be able to give love out in plenty. I was always hearing him tell the Brazilians, adults and children, that he loved them. With deep-felt sincerity. And his presence affected people too. They were blessed. This man began telling me repeatedly how much I was an inspiration and blessing to him and he would passionately pray for me. I received this, but it wasn't until I was home and talked with my friend about all this, that I realized how humbling that is. I have decided to let him inspire me. I know that I need this kind of powerful revelation that he has had about the love of God.
If I really understood the love of God, I would be filled with it and I would have more love to give. I would have no trouble telling the children from the shelter who so desperately deserve to hear it back that, "I love them too." I couldn't do it. I think that I have done so many trips and met so many people, that I have guarded my heart from allowing myself to give love. It is too hard to leave otherwise. But, if I really understood God's love, I would be filled with it, and I would trust that he would fill me back up after I passed on love to others who need love.
If I really understood God's love, I would rest in it. I would look at my present situation differently and would trust that God actually does have the best in mind for me. So yeah, this is where I am trying to get to. Now that I have realized I am not there at all.
O melhor de Deus ainda está por vir. Eu sei que chegará minha vez. Minha sorte Ele mudará. Eu creio.
Then, I have realized that a discussion we had at our church small group awhile back affected me and how I perceived God's bothering about my life--or lack thereof. Well, someone in Brazil pointed out Psalm 37:23 in her version that says, "The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives."
Being on a YWAM base, around DTS students and around a church team really served to point out to me just how cynical I have become. I don't just "follow hard" after God anymore, uninhibited. I am guarded. I look at others and their expressions of worship and service with criticism. When I reflect on my own DTS nearly ten years ago, I tend to think of myself as so much more advanced and mature now. Less naive. But now I am thinking, what's wrong with a little innocence? What's wrong with a little recklessness? Sure I am still a quiet Canadian who really has no desire to run around shouting, "Gloria a Deus!" all the time and I'm pretty sure I'm not cut out for praying in my room for hours a day, but does that mean I should look at others who do this as folks somehow missing something that I have?! What?! What do I have? Well, I have the gift to be able to lead others in worship while not actually being able to worship God myself. How special is that?! Sounds kinda fake. Seriously, if people are acting out of love, then their actions must be good. I need to take a lesson about following hard after God. Again.
There was a song that I honestly and deeply sang nine years ago that wholly expressed how I felt about God. "You are my passion. Love of my life. Friend and companion, my lover. All of my being longs for your touch. With all my heart, I love you. Now will you draw me close to you? Gather me in your arms. Let me feel the beating of your heart. Oh my Jesus. Oh my Jesus." At some point, I decided the song was too sappy and I don't feel that it has been my song in a long time.
There was a man on the team who sincerely has had a real revelation of the Love of God. Every time he talks about God's love, he is overcome with emotion. And with this revelation he has, God has blessed him to be able to give love out in plenty. I was always hearing him tell the Brazilians, adults and children, that he loved them. With deep-felt sincerity. And his presence affected people too. They were blessed. This man began telling me repeatedly how much I was an inspiration and blessing to him and he would passionately pray for me. I received this, but it wasn't until I was home and talked with my friend about all this, that I realized how humbling that is. I have decided to let him inspire me. I know that I need this kind of powerful revelation that he has had about the love of God.
If I really understood the love of God, I would be filled with it and I would have more love to give. I would have no trouble telling the children from the shelter who so desperately deserve to hear it back that, "I love them too." I couldn't do it. I think that I have done so many trips and met so many people, that I have guarded my heart from allowing myself to give love. It is too hard to leave otherwise. But, if I really understood God's love, I would be filled with it, and I would trust that he would fill me back up after I passed on love to others who need love.
If I really understood God's love, I would rest in it. I would look at my present situation differently and would trust that God actually does have the best in mind for me. So yeah, this is where I am trying to get to. Now that I have realized I am not there at all.
O melhor de Deus ainda está por vir. Eu sei que chegará minha vez. Minha sorte Ele mudará. Eu creio.
Faith...
So I've realized that my faith is a lot smaller than I thought. As I anticipated, my 17 days in Brazil this July were perfect in that they put me back in a place where I could hear lots from God. And speak and nudge he did.
I remember that at the new year, I didn't feel like looking back on 2007 with much happiness and sadly, I've felt the same way about 2008. It has been hard. And sad. And depressing. And I am so tired. So when my mom ended up in the hospital just before I was scheduled to go to Manaus (for my fourth time), I must admit that I felt a blow at the possibility of not being able to leave--I was so looking forward to a time of refreshing away and in a beautiful, familiar place. Thankfully, I was still able to go and have indeed returned somewhat refreshed. Not necessarily any happier and still tired, but with some things to mull over and with the knowledge that God is out there and is speaking to me.
So yeah, I have realized that I have no trouble believing in God for provision--I have seen it so many remarkable times. But I have discovered that my faith is small in believing that God wants to heal and wants to see people happy with their heart's desires fulfilled. I am NOT seeing these. In my own life and in the lives of those closest to me. And I'm not particularly happy with God about it.
After a week at the YWAM base outside of Manaus, our group took off on the YWAM boat for a 6-hour trip up river to visit 3 river communities. Sleeping on the boat in a hammock is something I really enjoy and getting away from the mosquitoes at the base was a nice change. In the days, as the boat was docked, the group would walk into the communities and visit families. The dentist on the team ended up pulling out many teeth and every day, I ended up going off in a motor boat with just a few others, doing my best as the translator. We would visit families who lived on their own tucked away up various tributaries. I must admit, taking a group who wanted to pray and read the Bible to people is something I have become unaccustomed to, since working mostly with young Canadians who are not necessarily Christians. But this team had an average age of 50 and they were all from an evangelical church. The suggestion to pray and share God's word with the families came from our Brazilian YWAM friends anyway, and the village people all knew them personally. We were not unwelcome whatsoever. I needed to swallow my young Canadian tendencies and get into it.
So there was one family of 6 or 7 who all lived in this one room and in the house, there lay an old man on his hammock. They told us, he hadn't been up or eaten for 14 days. He looked horrible. Skin and bones. Our YWAM friends offered our prayers and asked the man if he believed God could heal him. (Actually, I don't know if she said, "could" or "would".) And Francisco spoke out, clear as day, "Eu creio." (I believe.) In that moment, I was overcome with emotion. I felt compelled to lay my hand on him. I felt compelled to pray for his healing, although I had no words to say. I just stood there, crying and touching him while listening to Portuguese prayer. Then we left.
Later that evening, Newton, our boat captain came to me to tell me that Francisco was up out of his hammock, feeling better and eating. This was the third person that our group prayed healing for and then later heard (or even saw) an improvement. The next day, we went to take him some soup, but he and his family were already en route to Manaus to seek treatment now that he was well enough to make the long journey. I found out that Francisco's sickness was cirrhosis of the liver from drinking too much. This struck me even more: that this man could believe so strongly in God's ability and desire to heal him, even though it was his own shortcomings that caused his sickness. Oh yes, how small my faith is.
Through conversations with DTS students, through morning team times and Bible reading, through Brazilian church songs, through a sermon given by a team member and through stories like this, God has been nudging me (or maybe hitting me over the head) to press in and actually pray. To not give up. To consider the hard things joyous and a chance to grow my faith.
I spoke with my dad last night for over two hours. It was really nice. I told him some stories and some of this as well as talked to him about light-hearted things like native issues in Canada. :P I was impressed as he talked about his own struggles with everything, yet I could hear his strong faith in it all. And even a strong belief in a physical miracle. It is so good for me to be at this end. Far too many times do I feel like I am supposed to be the strong one, but here now is my dad demonstrating to me a strong, strong faith. And a strong endurance (he told me a difficult story from his life that I'd never heard before).
(I gave up being strong a couple months ago, by the way.)
I remember that at the new year, I didn't feel like looking back on 2007 with much happiness and sadly, I've felt the same way about 2008. It has been hard. And sad. And depressing. And I am so tired. So when my mom ended up in the hospital just before I was scheduled to go to Manaus (for my fourth time), I must admit that I felt a blow at the possibility of not being able to leave--I was so looking forward to a time of refreshing away and in a beautiful, familiar place. Thankfully, I was still able to go and have indeed returned somewhat refreshed. Not necessarily any happier and still tired, but with some things to mull over and with the knowledge that God is out there and is speaking to me.
So yeah, I have realized that I have no trouble believing in God for provision--I have seen it so many remarkable times. But I have discovered that my faith is small in believing that God wants to heal and wants to see people happy with their heart's desires fulfilled. I am NOT seeing these. In my own life and in the lives of those closest to me. And I'm not particularly happy with God about it.
After a week at the YWAM base outside of Manaus, our group took off on the YWAM boat for a 6-hour trip up river to visit 3 river communities. Sleeping on the boat in a hammock is something I really enjoy and getting away from the mosquitoes at the base was a nice change. In the days, as the boat was docked, the group would walk into the communities and visit families. The dentist on the team ended up pulling out many teeth and every day, I ended up going off in a motor boat with just a few others, doing my best as the translator. We would visit families who lived on their own tucked away up various tributaries. I must admit, taking a group who wanted to pray and read the Bible to people is something I have become unaccustomed to, since working mostly with young Canadians who are not necessarily Christians. But this team had an average age of 50 and they were all from an evangelical church. The suggestion to pray and share God's word with the families came from our Brazilian YWAM friends anyway, and the village people all knew them personally. We were not unwelcome whatsoever. I needed to swallow my young Canadian tendencies and get into it.
So there was one family of 6 or 7 who all lived in this one room and in the house, there lay an old man on his hammock. They told us, he hadn't been up or eaten for 14 days. He looked horrible. Skin and bones. Our YWAM friends offered our prayers and asked the man if he believed God could heal him. (Actually, I don't know if she said, "could" or "would".) And Francisco spoke out, clear as day, "Eu creio." (I believe.) In that moment, I was overcome with emotion. I felt compelled to lay my hand on him. I felt compelled to pray for his healing, although I had no words to say. I just stood there, crying and touching him while listening to Portuguese prayer. Then we left.
Later that evening, Newton, our boat captain came to me to tell me that Francisco was up out of his hammock, feeling better and eating. This was the third person that our group prayed healing for and then later heard (or even saw) an improvement. The next day, we went to take him some soup, but he and his family were already en route to Manaus to seek treatment now that he was well enough to make the long journey. I found out that Francisco's sickness was cirrhosis of the liver from drinking too much. This struck me even more: that this man could believe so strongly in God's ability and desire to heal him, even though it was his own shortcomings that caused his sickness. Oh yes, how small my faith is.
Through conversations with DTS students, through morning team times and Bible reading, through Brazilian church songs, through a sermon given by a team member and through stories like this, God has been nudging me (or maybe hitting me over the head) to press in and actually pray. To not give up. To consider the hard things joyous and a chance to grow my faith.
I spoke with my dad last night for over two hours. It was really nice. I told him some stories and some of this as well as talked to him about light-hearted things like native issues in Canada. :P I was impressed as he talked about his own struggles with everything, yet I could hear his strong faith in it all. And even a strong belief in a physical miracle. It is so good for me to be at this end. Far too many times do I feel like I am supposed to be the strong one, but here now is my dad demonstrating to me a strong, strong faith. And a strong endurance (he told me a difficult story from his life that I'd never heard before).
(I gave up being strong a couple months ago, by the way.)
Tuesday, 3 April 2007
A Reversal of Roles
The following are tearful (I mean, really full) thoughts I had today while driving, once again. This time on my way from picking my mom up at the hospital and taking her to her new temporary home.
"You're bossing me around! Telling me what to do! You're not being fair!"
"Well, if you want me to treat you like an adult, you're going to have to start acting like one."
~Reflections on a mother-daughter conversation. The daughter's statement is the latter.
"Why was I even born? I'm stupid. I was a mistake. Born out of wedlock, born out of wedlock. My parents only got married because of me. My father hated me."
~Words and hurts you never want to hear. Especially crying from out of your mother's mouth.
"Blessed be Your Name when the sun's shining down on me and the world's all as it should be...when the darkness closes in Lord, still I will say, Blessed be Your Name."
"Oh Lord, Your love is new with every morning.
Your faithfulness gets me through the night.
You bid me come.
You know that I am weary.
Your yoke is easy, Your burden is light."
"You're bossing me around! Telling me what to do! You're not being fair!"
"Well, if you want me to treat you like an adult, you're going to have to start acting like one."
~Reflections on a mother-daughter conversation. The daughter's statement is the latter.
"Why was I even born? I'm stupid. I was a mistake. Born out of wedlock, born out of wedlock. My parents only got married because of me. My father hated me."
~Words and hurts you never want to hear. Especially crying from out of your mother's mouth.
"Blessed be Your Name when the sun's shining down on me and the world's all as it should be...when the darkness closes in Lord, still I will say, Blessed be Your Name.""Oh Lord, Your love is new with every morning.
Your faithfulness gets me through the night.
You bid me come.
You know that I am weary.
Your yoke is easy, Your burden is light."
~boredatthebeach
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