The Light of His Presence

About a month ago our trip leader, Chris Gaynor, broke us up into three teams that would work in three separate ministries each afternoon during our week in India. We had an amazing medical team (complete with three doctors and a few nurses) and we were going to create a ‘children’s team’ and a ‘village team.’ My automatic response upon hearing the three options was, ‘Children, duh.’ I check that box and began imagining myself hugging orphans, singing songs, braiding hair and just loving on some kids. That apparently, was not God’s idea for the week. For some mysterious reason I got put on the village ministry team and given the short description that we would be “Planting mango trees, sharing the gospel, visiting with people and praying with them.” Yea, street evangelism and praying for strangers- especially strangers that don’t speak English or Spanish- not my thing, sorry God. 

I focused my thoughts on those Mango Trees (because that sounded safe enough) and tried to get excited about something new. Chris, if any of you know him, has recently been asked to transition his role as worship pastor at Summit Church into a pastor of worship and prayer. Much, if not most of our preparation for concerts, and for this trip in particular was spending time talking and communing with the Lord. The more we prayed about the trip, the more I began to feel confident that God had placed me on this particular team for a reason. I kept coming back to the verse in 2 Cor 12, My grace is made perfect in your weakness. Its easy for me to play with kids, but let me tell you walking up to people as asking them if I can pray for them scares the socks right off my feet. The week leading up to the trip I found myself almost threatening God, ‘Ok Lord, if you want me here, you better give me your words. I don’t know what I’m doing so you better not go anywhere. And, oh yea, I’m sick of this ‘whispering business,’ please, please speak a little bit louder!’ 

A few days before leaving, I was eating lunch with Alaan, and when the food came I whipped out a quick prayer that I could probably repeat by now in my sleep. ‘God, thank you for this food, bless the hands that prepared it, and our nourishment to your glory. We love you. Amen.’ Alaan, who has lived most of his life in Mexico, and became a Christian just a few years ago asked me how I knew what words to say. I thought about it and realized that much of my prayer life, and much of the way that I talk to God has become routine and almost robotic. He looked at me, semi-perplexed and said, ‘Well, maybe you could pray again, then.’ I thought about it and for the first time, in awhile, I really told God how thankful I was for his provision- in my simpler, much more honest words. 

Fast forward three days and its 3:00am (who knows what time zone) and I’m alone in the Dubai airport. I’m about to miss my flight and I’m panicking. When I got off the plane from London, I was herded into a line for customs where I thought I was going to pick up my bags, re-check them and be on my way to Hyderabad. I waited for an hour and a half to get through the passport check but when I arrived to the luggage area, my bags were no where to be found. I asked several people where the London bags were arriving and they all sent me in different directions. Finally one man who spoke a bit of English grabbed my tags and realized that I was in the wrong place. He told me to go up, around and over, catch the bus to terminal three, re-check in and...to HURRY. Signs were in arabic and I began to ask people every two yards where terminal three was. Sometimes I was told to go upstairs, other times to go outside, but slowly I figured out how to get to the bus that would supposedly take me to where I needed to be. As the bus pulled away from the airport I looked up and said, God, I need you to show up. We pulled around to the front gates and I ran into a huge, empty, ware-house size entrance and began to play the ‘ask everyone I see’ game again. One woman from Romania graciously walked me to the line I needed to be in, but also told me that I would never make the flight. At this point I had about 30 minutes before the plane would leave for India and I would stay behind. The desks in front of me were complete chaos. People were fighting, arguing, pushing in front of me, and for the first time I realized that I was in a culture, and would be for the next few months, were I was practically invisible. No men would look at me, and when held up my ticket and told them I was late they shooed me off to the long lines of seeminly unhappy, fighting people. I felt my body start to shake and as i held back tears I again looked up and pleaded, God, please show up, I don’t know what to do. I finally reached the front of the line and the woman stared at her computer screen, confused as to why I was ‘re-checking in.’ Then all of the sudden, something clicked and she printed out the ticket and told me to RUN. I didn’t ask twice and just started sprinting towards security. I was going to so fast that I made the guard jump, ‘You afraid me,’ he said as he started to laugh. I flew through security and up the stairs to where my flight would be leaving in 10 short minutes. The gate was open. Thank You. My body relaxed and I walked on the flight only to find out that because I was so late, my luggage had been transferred free of charge and my seat had been upgraded to first class. I stretched out in the bed-like seat, closed my eyes and heard God saying to me, My grace is made perfect in your weakness, Remember me, trust me and cry out to me. Relax girl, I got your back.

Fast forward two more days and we are standing in a small rural village praying over mango trees pleading that God would use the fruit that it bears to be a sign to the people of God’s provision and love for them. Women and men alike tug on our shirts, drawing us into their homes, eager to have their family’s blessed, their illnesses cured and their burden’s lifted through prayer. As I stood over a women’s bed after her complicated child birth and held her tiny 7 day year old baby boy whose fever was burning through the blanket, I again felt like I had no idea what to do. The woman placed my hand on her head and said, ‘pray, pray.’ She was not asking for medicine, or money- just prayer. She believed that God would heal her. 

After our concerts at night, the same sort of things happens. We walk out into the crowd and people are so eager to be prayed for. ‘Sister, sister, pray,’ they say. Slowly, but in a very powerful way, God has used their faith to empower mine. They don’t pray because they think they should, they pray because they believe in God and rely on him for each next step that they take. 

On the first night I was sitting with a group of young girls after we finished singing and one girl came straight to me and asked if I would pray for her studies. Her parents were without work and she had five brothers and sisters who were all in school. She also had a math test the next day. (Sometimes we are not as different as we think we are). I closed my eyes and waited. The Lord began giving me scriptures to pray over her and for the first time I felt an intimate connection with God. It was like he was not only listening to me, he was also giving me the words to say. It was awesome. When we finished she immediately took my hand and moved it to another girl standing beside her. She asked the girl what she wanted prayer for and roughly translated it back to me. This was a huge blessing because much of my prayer that afternoon had sounded something like this, Lord, I have no idea what this women just said to me, but you know her heart, you know what she needs. The language barrier helped me at first to realize that I was talking to God- literally he was the only one who could understand me- but at the same time I wanted to be able to pray about in a more personal, specific way for these girls. My sweet new friend, who I came to find out was named Bharathi, became a sort of administrator/translator for the next half our or so. When I finished praying for one person she would be ready with the next person’s name, requests, and current situation. Its hard to find people who can go deeper than name, age and greetings in English and this girl was translating things like ‘Father- alcohol in home,’ ‘Sugar- her diabetes,’ and even ‘kidney stones, pain.’ She was a blessing. 

As I try to verbalize WHAT exactly it is that I am learning, here are a few of my reflections: 

1. God provides in a very REAL way. We have seen, and learned how to recognize and expect God’s miraculous provision. I am reminded of stories like that of the women who reached out and touched Jesus’s cloak, and the paralytic whose friends brought him to Jesus feet. In each case Jesus said, ‘Your faith has healed you.’ When Jesus came across a blind and mute man he asked him, ‘Do you believe I am able to do this?’ The man responded, ‘Yes Lord,’ to which Jesus said, ‘According to your faith it will be done to you.’

2. Chris has encouraged us to learn and practice talking to God intimately- the way we might talk to a close friend or a lover. When you love someone, you never get tired of telling them how amazing they are- how beautiful, how awesome, how captivating. Sometimes that means writing out a letter, maybe that means quoting scripture- God’s very own poetry, and maybe that means just being honest and speaking truth. 

3. From Jesus Calling- a Devotional: “It’s all right to be human. When your mind wanders while you are praying, don’t be suprised or upset. Simply return your attention to Me. Share a secret smile with Me, knowing that I understand. Rejoice in My Love for you, which has no limits or conditions. Whisper My Name in loving contentment, assured that I will never leave you or forsake you. Intersperse these peaceful interludes abundantly throughout your day. This practice will enable you to attain a quite and gentle spirit, which is pleasing to Me. As you live in close contact with Me, the Light of My Presence filters through you to bless others. Your weakness and woundedness are the openings through which the LIght of the knowledge of My Glory shines forth. My strength and power show themselves most effective in your weakness.”

4. Americans in India, especially Americans willing to sing and dance,  are treated like movie stars. I have been wondering what is so special about our prayers- why peopel are so eager to have Westerners pray over them- and God gave me this verse “For God, who said, “Let light sine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. 2 Cor 4:9”  We are different, and that is exciting for some people, but ultimately when we pray or minister to anyone we are just clay jars that God can use for his Glory.

5. Kevin has called this week an 'extended prayer walk,' and I think that is completely accurate. I have learned more than I ever had what it means to "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." 

(1 Thes 5:16-18)

6. Prayer and adoration is a discipline. We were created to worship God and to be in relationship with him, but it does not always come naturally to us. I have been so grateful for a group of 60 people that has surrounded me this week and the larger body of Summit and friends who have been praying for us. To have people constantly pointing towards the Lord at every turn of the corner has been the perfect way to start off my extended stay here in India.