when God's presence is just sweet...

...but first, a bunny trail. i think it's hilarious that i can't log in to paypal, wachovia, and many other websites that i am not yet aware of on the Sudanese connection we get on compound. Sudan comes up as a sanctioned nation. i can't believe i live in a country that is internationally sanctioned online...that is crazy, in a funny way, to me.

ok, back to the road (bye bunnies)! one of the best times on compound is nightly prayers. it was the first thing i experienced when i came, and continues to be one of my favorites. it's something the kids began on their own. one of the older girls, Onzima, felt the Lord call her to do it and it's happened every night ever since. the kids love it. it's not forced or mandatory or official, which is why i think they love it so much. they feel free in it. after dinner, the kids will gather our drums and start playing. eventually more come, form a circle around the drummers, and dance around and around in African fashion. some more time passes, and one of the older girls joins as the worship leader. they're not picked beforehand, it's just whoever comes over whenever. African worship is call and response (how Gospel came about) where the worship leader sings a phrase and the rest respond by singing a new phrase or repeating the leader's words. the songs are very simple, and they often repeat the same sentence for 15 minutes. but they don't get tired of it, it's their style and their sound. so we go around and around for 45 minutes. at some point, we transition from fast songs to slow, and everyone stands still, kneels, and worships the Lord. finally, there's a time for prayer at the end, and all corporately cry out to the Lord.

tonight was beautiful. God's presence was just plain sweet. that's the best way i can describe it. it wasn't overwhelming power, laughter, tears. He was just there and everyone knew it. it was very dark out. i didn't realize the difference the stars and moon make in lighting the world until i came here. tonight there was no moon and the stars were covered by thick clouds. i couldn't see faces, but as i looked around, i could see children worshiping, hands raised to Jesus. the worship and prayer was so sincere, so from the heart. sometimes it's not. the religious spirit will rear its ugly, horrible head from time to time and everything will feel so mechanical. not tonight. the children's hearts were meeting with Jesus. i had my arm around Blessing on one side and Moriba and Asa on another (who would jab at each other a bit trying to win full possession of my one hand). i prayed for God to do among these kids what He did with H.A. Baker's kids in China in the early 1900s. ("Visions Beyond the Veil" is a must-read. it's about 100 pages and will take you an hour). they were beggar street kids who were reluctant to attend weekly chapel, until God came down. they were caught them up in visions of heaven, hell, angels, and the end of the age...for months. they wouldn't eat or sleep for days sometimes; all they wanted was to be with God. they accurately described the events in the Book of Revelation. 10-year olds would preach and prophesy on the streets with a voice that was not their own. i prayed this for our kids. "why not, Lord? these, too, are the poorest of the poor, the cast-asides...Your favorite ones."

i'm gonna believe for it and believe Him to do it. but for now, His presence was just plain sweet.

i'm exhausted, but this is not about that

i am exhausted today. it's mostly because i woke up at 4am to talk to a dear friend on the phone, which is a great reason to be exhausted. it was a wonderful, encouraging, uplifting conversation, and i am so so grateful for her. i love how i can be miles away, with time zones and bad phone connections in between, but when i talk to my friends, it's like we haven't skipped a beat. praise the Lord who is the one who knits us together with His unbreakable thread.

i'm also exhausted because after i finished my morning time with Jesus (which, may i add, was very slack because i kept falling asleep), and was preparing to wash up and get my "to do" list done, one of our boys runs up and says "Alex can't walk. His entire leg is swollen and he's in a ton of pain." i had taken Alex to the clinic a few days ago and he'd been prescribed antibiotics for a small wound below his knee that had gotten badly infected. the antibiotics didn't work, and his leg was huge and there were lumps all over his calf.

this isn't a story about exhaustion, but about how Jesus comes to my rescue. i could not take Alex on the motorbike; he was in too much pain to straddle it. i had never driven our Land Rover before. even though i obviously know how to drive, trying to navigate this stick shift car with terrible breaks and the wheel on the right side on these terrible roads with 2-foot ditches and holes, not to mention people, goats, cattle, and bikes milling around in no apparent orderly fashion everywhere....this is truly a feat to be accomplished. but there was no one else to drive, and he had to be taken right then. i had no choice. i went into the house to grab the keys, stopped, and prayed. "Jesus, help." and He did. we got there and back safe and sound. Alex is gonna be just fine.

here, an incident can happen instantly, and i don't have time to think about how i don't know what to do or can't do it. i have to make a decision right there and then, and i have to act even though i don't have a clue what i'm doing/have never done it before, and trust that God is giving me the wisdom and ability to do it in that moment. today, i had no choice but to jump out of the boat and hope that Jesus would enable me to walk on the water. He did, and it was supernaturally amazing.

life and life more abundantly

this week, i held a dead baby in my arms. it was one of the hardest days of my life. one of our house mamas (the baby's great aunt) had been in the hospital for days with the sick boy. two friends, wendy and jennie, and i were sitting outside on the road having a soda when we saw her on the way to the hospital that day. a few minutes later, we saw her pass again, this time running, screaming, wailing, looking completely crazed. a few feet behind her, the baby was being carried, wrapped up in a blanket. my friends and i stopped them in the street and began praying. after a few minutes, i took the baby, and we drove over to the family's home. a note on culture here...funerals are very dramatic ordeals here. the entire family gathers at the deceased's house and mourns for 5 days straight, 24/7. the Sudanese express grief by throwing themselves on the ground and rolling around, wailing, in the dust. it's very dramatic and emotional. so this is the scene that ensued when i emerged with the dead baby in my arms. it's like people momentarily lose their minds and something else takes over. the atmosphere was heavy, depressing. death is a way of life here. many have seen several people in their families die, and so have lost all strength to believe, to rise up, to overcome, according to what Christ has accomplished and promised. they don't fight it, nor do they think they can, as Christianity here is largely legalistic and full of death itself, influenced by experience and the pride of man. the pastor's exhortation at this funeral was completely unbiblical and one of the most heartbreaking things i've ever heard. he said, "death comes to us all. we eat of the bread of death every day..." wait a minute, i thought Jesus was the bread of life and came to give life abundantly...?

we brought the baby into the house and began praying, fully believing for a resurrection. but the atmosphere was seeped of all faith and hope. there was only despair. my friends and i were the only ones praying. everyone else was either wailing or staring at us. i was becoming so angry with the devil, for how he has stolen life and hope and joy from these people to the point that they accept it. the baby had the most serene look on his face; he was so beautiful.

an amazing thing happened as we prayed. wendy, jennie, and i worshiped and sang in the Spirit softly, and the people gathered became silent and still. this incredible peace and stillness descended upon us. wendy whispered to me, "this never happens at funerals". occasionally, new mourners would enter the room and begin wailing again, but as they remained there, they would also calm down and fall silent. i've never experienced the peace of God so tangibly. wendy had a vision of Jesus scooping the baby boy in His arms. we shared this with the family, as well as the hope we have in Christ. i walked out of the house and moved from person to person, praying for them. there was one woman who kept walking around very restlessly, shaking her hands and muttering something. i don't know if it was curses or she was simply losing it, but i went over to her and embraced her. she immediately calmed down and i felt her breathe easy. i prayed over her in Arabic - "Jesus will give you peace in your heart. The baby is in heaven with Jesus. All will be well."

i really wanted this boy to raise from the dead, but he didn't. the Lord's way is perfect. i was grateful for the supernatural peace God gave, and i hope the family recognized it as such presses in themselves to touch it.

feet

i look at people's feet. i actually think feet are pretty gross, maybe that's why i notice them. there's a big difference between Sudanese feet and American feet. children as young as 2 already have hard soles. even when they have shoes, like our kids do, they don't like to wear them. by contrast, kids this age in the States have soft, smooth feet. adults' feet are permanently hardened and heels are cracked. elderly persons' feet are irreversibly cracked and wrinkled by a lifetime of exposure to intense sun. it seems like no matter how much they are washed, there's a permanent layer of irremovable dirt. i understand this, as i've only been here 3 months and my feet never seem to get totally clean no matter how hard i scrub. it's not washing habits, it's the constant dust and dirt and sun.

you can tell a lot about someone by looking at their feet. the Sudanese walk everywhere, the sun is hot, and the dust is ever-present. i think feet reveal a lot about culture, standard of living, and the life one has had to live. Sudanese feet speak of poverty, but also perseverance and hard work. you can see years of toil and persistence in the face of extreme struggle. you can see hope too. their feet are beautiful.

precious Monica

every Saturday, pastor John Sebit, myself, and many of the children have been going to the local markets on outreach. we'll stand in the back of our huge truck, sing worship songs, and preach the Gospel. several weeks ago, an elderly woman came forward for prayer. her name is Monica, and she explained her suffering to us. she is sick and has no money for food or medicine. she lives alone. sometimes, her nephews come and force her to cook for them. she was asking for prayer saying, "please pray that Jesus would help me to die soon and in peace." she had no hope and no desire to live anymore. we prayed and she showed me where she lives. i told her i would come visit her. i could not get her out of my mind for the next few days and decided that we were going to help her.

the next week, Kizito, Justin, and i visited Monica. she told us that just the previous day, her nephew had hung himself, because his father (Monica's brother) had refused to pay the bride price on a certain woman this young man wanted to marry. her other nephew, upon whose property she resides, had been communicating that he wants to rent out this land and warning her that she needed to get out and find another place to live. she relayed to us the pain and fear in her heart, the permanence of their presence. i explained to her that we were going to help her financially and wanted to pray for her. we layed hands, i prayed and sang over her. afterward, she said she felt the heaviness leaving her.

we returned several days later to give her some money. the Lord did an amazing thing in that short interval. some of her family spoke to her nephew who had been threatening to kick her off of his property. they rebuked him for his behavior, reminding him that Monica had cared for him as for her own son. he was convicted by their words, came to her, and begged for forgiveness. he is no longer forcing her to leave. i was amazed at the Lord's goodness and speed of action. we prayed for her again. she asked us to please keep coming back, saying Jesus had sent us to her. she said every time we come and pray, she feels more and more of the fear break off.

to quote our ever-wise Abuba, "Surely, He takes care of the widows..."

Jesus loves children

for the past few weeks, i've been driving over to the local primary school and preaching to the students. last year, some of our fiery girls asked the headmaster (principal) if they could have one class period for prayers, worship, and preaching. he was a Muslim but granted their request, and they ended up leading him to Jesus. sometime afterward, he passed away. truly, the Lord was merciful to him. this year, the new headmaster, a true loves of Jesus, permitted the program to continue and was excited about me coming every week to speak to the children. so every wednesday, we gather as many as want to come under the mango tree, worship, and I share a short message. the whole exploit is by no means orderly and organized. there's kids everywhere, talking, pushing each other, some climbing the tree, staring at me. it's kind of a chaotic mess :) i wonder if they are even hearing what i am saying or if they are just coming because i'm white and it's something new and fascinating for them. (most of them have not seen many, if any, white people in their lifetimes). often i feel that this is accomplishing nothing. but i feel the presence of the Lord during worship. i close my eyes and actually get lost in it, which is hard to do when 100 curious faces are staring at you. but it's that thick. last week, i distinctly felt the Lord's pleasure over me and these children. this week, the headmaster approached me and said he has seen a change in the children since we've been doing the meetings. he said they've started treating each other better, being more loving and kind to one another. this made my heart really glad. i realize that God is more powerful than distractions, short attention span, and religious legalism. His word does not return void. even if these kids catch 2 words of what i'm saying, He'll pierce their hearts with them, and these 2 words will bear fruit. i've always prayed that God would anoint my preaching, like He did the apostles' in the book of Acts. i would say to the Lord that if He doesn't put power on what i say, then i don't want to be saying it, because what i speak can't change anyone. God's doing it, in small ways, but i'll take it and be faithful with the little.

"...among whom you shine as lights in the world..."

Philippians 3 talks about the position of the saints on the earth. it conveys that saints all throughout history have lived in the midst of crooked and perverse generations. it doesn't matter what time period or nation, we have been surrounded by darkness and witnessed the wickedness of the heart of man in ways varying throughout history. the Word affirms that in the midst of perverse generations, the Lord's people have always shone. the darkness has never been so powerful to snuff out the light of the saints. the gates of hell have yet to prevail. the greater the darkness, the more beautifully these lights have shone, and continue to shine.

we've got some phenomenal shining lights here in Sudan, whom i have had the honor to meet and get to know. i'm not exaggerating when i say i am truly humbled in the presence of these saints. whether it is due to the darkness that is so great in this land or the extraordinary amount of Holy Spirit that these people retain in their hearts, one thing is certain - i have never met people whose light so tangibly and visibly spills over and floods everywhere they step and everyone they touch.

Mama Regina (or Abuba, as everyone here calls her, meaning "grandma") is probably my favorite adult in Sudan. she's one of the mamas, caretakers, on our compound, and cares for all the toddlers. she's my best language teacher because she doesn't speak a word of English so i am forced to learn and improve my Arabic around her. she's illiterate. she has survived both wars and outlived her children and grandchildren. none of the sufferings of her life are written on her, at all. she's hilarious, always joking and cracking everyone up. her laugh is amazing, this deep, gutteral laugh that makes me laugh just hearing it. her employment at Iris is God's goodness in her life because she has no living family to care for her. her testimony is "surely, God cares for the widows." the kids absolutely adore her. they always gather at her house, sit by her fire in the evenings. she's constantly speaking identity over them. one of our teenage girls came to us pregnant with no where to go. she moved in with Abuba and has come alive since. she wants Abuba to name her baby (due very soon!) she truly knows the Lord, even though she's never read a word of the Bible. i adore her. even though we can't have deep conversations because of language limitations, i love sitting with her on her porch. it's like i'm drawn to her, and i know it's the Spirit. i look at her and an amazed. Abuba is one of the most beautiful people i've ever met, filled with the Spirit, radiating Christ.

another shining light is pastor John Sebit. he recently came on staff with Iris, but we've had a partnership with him for a while. he's an evangelist who has taken major bullets for Jesus (literally). getting saved at 30 years of age, he got crazy for Jesus and started preaching the Gospel on the front lines of the civil war conflict, to soldiers. i have yet to hear his stories. John is like my grandpa here. like Abuba, he's hilarious. he's always playing tricks on me, punching me in the arm, asking me to bring him candy. he speaks english very well and i love talking to Him about the Lord. the quality that characterizes him is faith. he's full of it. given what he's been through and the miracles he's seen, his faith is huge. he seems to always be calm and at peace; nothing moves him. we are doing outreach together to the markets every saturday, with some of the children. he's leading it and i'm preaching. i hope that by hanging out with him, some of his faith rubs off on me.

another person i've been struck by upon acquaintance is pastor Hector. he pastors a church in a village about 3 days' journey from here, called Chikudum, in East Equatoria. Iris partners with his work and supports him, and he came to our Leaders Prayer and Revival Conference last month. the story of how he came to partner with Iris is incredible. michele cried when she told me. his area of Sudan is plagued by cattle-raiding, tribes attacking one another for the acquisition of cattle (necessary for daughters' dowries). many children are orphaned as a result. during one such raid, 5 children were orphaned and Hector was determined to find them a home. he made the 5 day journey to Juba (the closest big city) to find an orphanage. the one he found was not God-centered; he could tell the children were not being loved and refused to leave these kids there. he prayed and the Lord said, "Go to Yei", where he found Michele and Iris Ministries. we took 2 of the children, the other 3 went to another orphanage. Michele was so moved by Hector's faith and love. she sent a letter with him to his church saying that we are standing with them. they were so grateful for the message that several months later, they came to Yei just to express their thanks. Hector's church has adopted 25 children; they are cared for in community, by the church families. this is exactly Iris' vision - to awaken the Church in Sudan to care for the orphan and widow, and Hector's small, poor church is doing it.

when i met Hector, i literally felt like i was in the presence of a hero. i almost cried shaking his hand. i just wanted to kneel and wash his feet. this one will never have a platform or a name, but boy is he great in the Kingdom. i think of Hebrews 11 and the Hall of Faith. his name is there. i bet his mansion in heaven will be massive, and i'll be honored to serve him coffee :)

the thread that unites these 3 saints is their faith and their joy. all of them have incredible, genuine, huge smiles. all of them trust God whole-heartedly. i know they get stressed and feel pain and sadness, of course. but they maintain a supernatural calmness and joy that i have never seen before.

in this nation of much poverty, corruption, pain, religious tradition and legalism, these 3 shine.