[can't think of a title...it's too hot]

Today makes 2 weeks in Sudan. I am learning to rest in God. As I said in my previous post, Michele is currently traveling in the States, therefore I do not have a concrete job here yet. So it's been a lot of nothing to do. This is hard for someone like me, who lives for impact and wants to be spent in this life for the sake of souls and the increase of the Kingdom. My motto is “I will rest in heaven.” God is confronting this mindset. I am not a worker but a lover. My primary identity is not that of missionary or minister, but daughter of God. So I know God is in this. He wants me to just relax, enjoy getting to know the children and spending time with them, even though I often feel like nothing is being accomplished through me doing this. I am bombarded with “But there are so many who need Jesus, so many sick and dying, bound....” Here's that Messiah complex rearing its head. I have to shut these thoughts down and understand that I am truly in His will, exactly where I need to be, and He will make a way for all things.

I went to the hospital the other day with one of the older Iris boys, Edward. It was about a 30 minute walk, but the most grueling 30 minutes ever. The heat here is unbelievable. During the hottest part of the day, in the sun, it's about 105 degrees, and not a cloud in the sky. Even though these are the winter months, they are the hottest because it's the dry season. (When the rains come during the summer months, it cools down). We got there and went to the sick children's ward. The hospital was pretty dilapidated and unsanitary – there was a stray cat lying in the entrance to the kids' ward – but not as bad as I expected. Here in Africa, they let you just walk in, pray, preach, sing...whatever. There aren't the strict rules about visitation rights and privacy we have in the States. So we walk over to the moms sitting with their sick kids and ask to pray for them. There's a general aura of despair in the room, you can see it on the women's faces. Most of the kids have fevers, diarrhea, various symptoms the causes of which are unknown. We would pray for the children and I would ask the moms if they knew Jesus. Most said yes, although some of them may not truly be saved (Christianity is a culture here in southern Sudan where “everyone is saved”). We would pray for the moms as well. Then we walked back, and I pretty much collapsed when I got back to the compound. I have to say the whole thing was just plain hard. Maybe some of those kids will be healed in the next few days, but I did not see any immediate changes when we prayed. I've prayed for lots of sick people and have seen very few actually get healed. I believe God's will is to heal and He wants to use us to do it. Jesus said “Heal the sick,” not “Pray for the sick.” I'm still waiting for this to be true in my life; I'm not sure why God delays or why He doesn't heal everyone we pray for, so I'm a bit discouraged, but I'm not going to stop praying for the sick. Edward leads the small Iris children in a daily devotional, where he has them memorize Scripture. Even the little 3-year olds know John 3:16, 14:6, 3:3, Jeremiah 29:11, and several others by heart. I'm gonna record one of the little girls reciting one of these days, it's the sweetest, most precious thing. Anyways, the kids keep asking him “When are we going to go to the hospital to pray for the sick?” They're getting it – they know who Jesus is and they know who they are in Him. This is totally my heart – to equip and release children in signs and wonders. So I'm gonna work on some schedule/transportation plan to take teams of these kids to the hospital regularly.

A few days ago, Holy Spirit broke out in our kitchen while some of the girls were cooking. They all stopped cooking and started dancing, singing, praising God, for a solid 1.5 hours. Super way delayed, but it was so much fun. Everyone was dancing full force, clothes drenched in sweat by the end of it. It was just the spontaneous rejoicing in Jesus, laughter...so beautiful.

I've got 2 more stories to share. Edward (18) my hospital accomplice, spent several years in a refugee camp during the war. His parents both died from sickness. After the war, he went to live with a step-uncle in Yei who was an alcoholic and drank all the money away. He survived on coconut for one year. He was miserable, hopeless, living in sin, having grown up in a “Christian” family..and then Iris Min took him in and he met Jesus, for real. He was telling me how much suffering he has been through in his life, and that God spoke to him on Friday “The time of suffering is over” and he rejoiced. This kid carried such peace and humility, and his smile is contagious.

There's Tito, an older man and the compound manager. He spent 20 years in a refugee camp. He said there was no work, no school, just plain nothing to do...for 20 years.

Being here is producing a true cry in me of “Come Lord Jesus, return to us.” This world is empty and poor, and Jesus is changing lives today for sure, but there will not be full restoration and an end to all pain until He comes back to us. I long for no more tears, no more sorrow, no more crying, no more pain. Until that day, I am going to set my mind on things above and storm the gates of hell with this Kingdom that is in me.