Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘prayer’

door-handle-769311-m
“Hello? Hello?”

An eerie stillness met me in the semi-dark apartment as I tentatively pushed the door open. Maybe my roommate had come home early from her babysitting job and forgotten to close the front door…

But then I saw that the back door was open too. Something was not right.

“Anyone here?” Peeking around corners, throwing open closet doors, jabbing behind the shower curtain, I explored every room in the house. But when I saw the clothes strewn on the floor in my bedroom, boxes pulled out from the closet, and my jewelry box dumped out, I couldn’t deny it any longer.

Someone had broken into our apartment.

“Anything else missing?” Officer Mills asked, checking his report. “Electronics? Laptop? Cash?” I answered his questions mechanically while a detective dusted for fingerprints and snapped photos, and his partner interviewed the neighbors.

“No, I don’t think so…” Then I remembered. My iPad. I almost always took it to work, using it in my classes to show videos, enter grades, or plan lessons. But that day I didn’t need it and had left it home, plugged in next to my bed… I rushed back into my room. Of course, it was gone. That and one gold watch and two valuable necklaces of my roommate were all that were taken.

Finally the detective and the police officers left, my parents and the neighbors went home, and my roommate Maira and I were left alone in the house. Though we locked and barred all the doors and checked all the windows several times, I still didn’t feel safe. Strangers had broken into our home, rifled through our personal belongings, and stolen things from us! I tried to imagine them pulling socks and underwear out of my dresser, dumping out my desk drawers, escaping out the back door… It gave me chills.

“We need to pray.” I didn’t FEEL like praying. I was still in shock. Yet more than the loss of the iPad and the jewelry, it was the loss of my sense of safety and security that I was concerned about. Maira and I had specifically chosen this apartment because it’s in a quiet, safe neighborhood. We’d never felt concern for our well-being here. Until now. Now I was starting to get angry – angry at the enemy who comes to “steal, kill and destroy” (John 10:10). I couldn’t let him steal my peace. It was time to fight back.

“Jesus, we declare Your peace in this place. This is YOUR house, and we are YOUR daughters. We know we are safe in Your hands.”

As we agreed in prayer, I felt a strange calmness. He is still here. I don’t understand why this happened. I don’t like it. It doesn’t make sense. But I have to trust that God is still good.

Yes, I’ll double-check the doors tonight to make sure the deadbolt is secure. But I don’t have to live in fear. Because even if I get robbed again, I know my Daddy’s holding me. My peace is not dependent on my circumstances. It’s based on the security of my relationship with Him. And that’s never going to change.

Going Vertical!
MJ

“In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, will keep me safe.”
Psalm 4:8 (NLT)

Read Full Post »

20130619-103635.jpg

The brilliant Cartagena sun beat down on the scattered group sitting on folding chairs in the open patio. A bird called, breaking the stillness. My stomach rumbled, and I glanced discreetly at my watch. How many more hours until dinner?

I was nineteen years old, in Colombia on outreach with my Youth With A Mission team. Several of the YWAM students at this Cartagena base had significant financial needs, and we were joining them in a day of prayer and fasting.

“God, what can I possibly give? I don’t have anything.” My mind kept wandering as I shifted in my chair, waiting to hear something.

Give that chapstick in your pocket to Gina. The thought came suddenly, unexpectedly. I glanced over at the Colombian girl to my left, who I’d just met this week. Surely I’d heard God wrong.

“But God, she needs money. She doesn’t need chapstick.” I shook my head and tried to clear my thoughts.

Give the chapstick in your pocket to Gina. I couldn’t ignore the nagging prompting. Give her the chapstick. Give the chapstick to Gina.

Feeling completely ridiculous, I reluctantly rose from my seat and slowly approached Gina. “God, do I really have to do this? It’s not even new! Isn’t she going to be offended that I’m giving her a tube of used chapstick? She’s going to think I’m stupid…”

Gina looked up inquisitively when I tapped her on the shoulder. “Um, I know this is weird, but…” Face flushed, I fumbled in my jeans pocket, my fingers closing on the plastic tube. “…I felt like God told me to give you this,” I muttered, thrusting it into her hand.

Her eyes widened as she looked at the tube, opened it, sniffed it, applied some to her lips.

“You won’t believe this, but I’ve just been sitting here, thinking about how I need chapstick. It’s such a small thing, but my lips have been so dry… And vanilla is my favorite scent!” Gina smiled at me through tears. “Gracias… Thank you so much.”

Slipping back into my seat, I sighed with relief. I hadn’t just imagined it. God DID speak to me.

“Did God REALLY say….?” It’s one of the Enemy’s oldest tricks in the book. Since the Garden of Eden, he’s tried to plant seeds of doubt in our minds. “Did you hear God right? Are you sure?”

In John 10:27 Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice.” We are His sheep, and He DOES speak to us. The more we listen and obey, even if it seems like a small thing, the more we can hear Him clearly. When I question my ability to hear my Heavenly Father, I remember that day in Cartagena many years ago. and a tube of vanilla chapstick. And I remind myself that I’m His sheep, and I CAN hear His voice!

Going Vertical!
MJ

Read Full Post »

20130422-224626.jpg

“I don’t know if you remember me. I hope I’m not bothering you…” The man’s voice is hesitant, almost apologetic, with a distinct midwestern drawl.

The number on my phone shows an unfamiliar town in Missouri, and the voice isn’t registering as anyone I know. Wrong number?

“We met on the bus to Springfield,” the man continues. “I had just gotten out of prison.”

My heart jumps as it all comes rushing back. Just after New Year’s. The greyhound bus from St. Louis to visit my grandmother.

The young man sitting next to me had struck up a conversation with me during the three-hour trip. He revealed that he had just gotten out of prison. That morning. Drugs and the wrong friends had messed up his life, but he was ready for a fresh start, he’d said.

“Fresh start.” Those were his very words. Jesus had met him in prison, he’d said, and he had read the Bible he’d been given over and over. When I told him about Fresh Start For All Nations and the blog I write, he agreed to let me tell his story. “If my story can encourage someone else, then please use it.”

Before I got off the bus, I gave him my business card with the Fresh Start website. It was only afterwards I realized it had my personal cell phone number too. Was it wise for a single girl to give her phone number to an ex-con?

And now, four months later, he’s calling me.

“I’ve gotten mixed up with my old friends,” he confesses softly. “And I’ve started doing drugs again.” I can hear the defeat in his voice.

My heart is heavy. He was so hopeful when I met him a few months ago. So confident. And now…

“I’ve been looking through old phone numbers,” the man continues, “and I remember that you were so sweet and encouraging. I was just wondering if maybe you would pray for me.”

What else can I do? I feel so helpless.

“Can I pray for you right now?” I ask. The man agrees. Taking a deep breath, I plead on behalf of this broken man.

“Father, thank you for your grace and forgiveness…” I ask God to be with this man, to bring him good friends, to help him get connected with a good church and a recovery support group. “…And most of all, may he know how much you love him…”

When I finish, the man thanks me. “That was so sweet. I really appreciate it.”

As I hang up, I still wonder if I did the right thing. But what else could I have done? “Always be prepared to give an answer… for the hope that you have,” we’re encouraged in I Peter 3:15. Hope – that’s what this man needed.

Is there someone God has brought in your path who is in need of HOPE? Are you prepared to give the reason for the hope that you have? All you can do is point that person to the One who is the source of all hope – Jesus. And pray that he or she will cling to that hope. It’s a hope that does not disappoint us.

Going Vertical!
MJ

Read Full Post »