he week before I came to Haiti was packed full of situations that pressed on my lifelong struggle of feeling powerless. In my past, beneath my seemingly powerless moments, you could be sure to find my rage just waiting to take the stage. I saw that happen in someone I care for deeply a week before we left for Haiti. He felt he had no voice…he felt he wasn’t heard.. and his rage surfaced.
Another friend of mine was almost totally disregarded by Erlanger and she needed an advocate. This week, the one they tried to send home with “allergies” is on chemotherapy. Mr. Fred’s doctor wouldn’t send in a prescription he desperately needed. He needed an advocate. This time of year has always been a bit dry at The Oak in terms of provision. Although the Father has always been faithful… that stress was pressing in on me heavily and mocking me with feelings of isolation and powerlessness.
Those are serious situations. And then there were the less serious situations that surfaced the same emotional response in me. I pulled up to get gas and the pump wasn’t working. I pushed the little button to get help (which I have never used before so I already felt a bit silly) and the attendant made fun of me. Big deal, right? It’s a bit funny now but in that moment, his words were like a punch in my gut and I wanted to fight back hard but I wasn’t even sure who to fight. I mean, I was less than sure his gas station shift manager would fire him and I was very sure that would not make all my internal chaos better. (or maybe it would for just second I thought to myself).
I wanted someone to just pay for all the powerless moments I was having. I wanted to stop being sarcastic with people that were trying to care about me. I needed someone to blame or get fired or maybe to yell at. Better yet, I needed a key to get into this house of peace and all of it’s rooms that I just seemed to be locked out of all week.
I could have taken all of those events, added them together, shaken hands with the devil and agreed that the world was out to get me. I could have justified my anger and decided that I’d spend a week or two being mad at God and the world. I could have decided to just be full of judgments against God because my reasoning left me empty in the face of suffering. That road is a really unfortunate dead end. It’s one I decided a a couple years ago that I never wanted to travel on again.
Instead, I asked the Father, “what in the world is going on?” It was a tender, simple moment of throwing my hands up, humbling myself and asking a question. I didn’t have answers and it was so healthy for me to admit. It also created space for Popa to whisper to me. It was one of those deeply intimate moments in my heart where I was sincerely thankful that Jesus is intensely personal and that true spiritual life is so much more than trying to adhere to spiritual principles that might make the world and me a better place. I didn’t really need or care to “be a better person” in that moment. My heart was in desperate need for love and interaction with the One who knit me together. And I knew no other person and no line of reasoning would really do the job.
I’m so glad I just asked Him. He wanted to show me how the ladies here in Haiti were feeling. Powerless. He also asked me to remind them that they are not forgotten. He also wanted to remind me of the same thing. He asked me to remind them that they are seen…they are cared for. And then it just hit me so powerfully that He was spending time in an apartment in Chattanooga, TN advocating for these women. He was on signal mountain talking to Greg Seymour about them. He was in California talking to Josh and Emily about them. He was in North Chatt talking to Alexis. He was speaking to Tracy on the southside of Chattanooga. Jennifer Jack was hearing his invitation in Athens, Tn. He was advocating for them to Bobbie as she waited tables and laid her head down at night. He was mobilizing us to join Him in bringing a powerful thing called hope to the land of Haiti. He’s even praying for them right now. They are a people who have been in exile for generations and He is building a nation that they can finally call home.
He’s organizing encounters for his kids so they have bread today. He’s arranging so many beautiful things for them….and for me. We are many things, but we are not powerless. We are His and He speaks for us when we cannot. He speaks to people we would not even think to speak to on our own behalf. He speaks to the Father daily about His affections for us. I am thankful that we accepted this invitation to join Him in rebuilding, advocating, encouraging and planting beautiful seeds of mercy.
We are halfway through our week and we have power-filled stories to tell.
Stories of our divine encounters are about to begin pouring out so stay tuned….
he week before I came to Haiti was packed full of situations that pressed on my lifelong struggle of feeling powerless. In my past, beneath my seemingly powerless moments, you could be sure to find my rage just waiting to take the stage. I saw that happen in someone I care for deeply a week before we left for Haiti. He felt he had no voice…he felt he wasn’t heard.. and his rage surfaced.
Another friend of mine was almost totally disregarded by Erlanger and she needed an advocate. This week, the one they tried to send home with “allergies” is on chemotherapy. Mr. Fred’s doctor wouldn’t send in a prescription he desperately needed. He needed an advocate. This time of year has always been a bit dry at The Oak in terms of provision. Although the Father has always been faithful… that stress was pressing in on me heavily and mocking me with feelings of isolation and powerlessness.
Those are serious situations. And then there were the less serious situations that surfaced the same emotional response in me. I pulled up to get gas and the pump wasn’t working. I pushed the little button to get help (which I have never used before so I already felt a bit silly) and the attendant made fun of me. Big deal, right? It’s a bit funny now but in that moment, his words were like a punch in my gut and I wanted to fight back hard but I wasn’t even sure who to fight. I mean, I was less than sure his gas station shift manager would fire him and I was very sure that would not make all my internal chaos better. (or maybe it would for just second I thought to myself).
I wanted someone to just pay for all the powerless moments I was having. I wanted to stop being sarcastic with people that were trying to care about me. I needed someone to blame or get fired or maybe to yell at. Better yet, I needed a key to get into this house of peace and all of it’s rooms that I just seemed to be locked out of all week.
I could have taken all of those events, added them together, shaken hands with the devil and agreed that the world was out to get me. I could have justified my anger and decided that I’d spend a week or two being mad at God and the world. I could have decided to just be full of judgments against God because my reasoning left me empty in the face of suffering. That road is a really unfortunate dead end. It’s one I decided a a couple years ago that I never wanted to travel on again.
Instead, I asked the Father, “what in the world is going on?” It was a tender, simple moment of throwing my hands up, humbling myself and asking a question. I didn’t have answers and it was so healthy for me to admit. It also created space for Popa to whisper to me. It was one of those deeply intimate moments in my heart where I was sincerely thankful that Jesus is intensely personal and that true spiritual life is so much more than trying to adhere to spiritual principles that might make the world and me a better place. I didn’t really need or care to “be a better person” in that moment. My heart was in desperate need for love and interaction with the One who knit me together. And I knew no other person and no line of reasoning would really do the job.
I’m so glad I just asked Him. He wanted to show me how the ladies here in Haiti were feeling. Powerless. He also asked me to remind them that they are not forgotten. He also wanted to remind me of the same thing. He asked me to remind them that they are seen…they are cared for. And then it just hit me so powerfully that He was spending time in an apartment in Chattanooga, TN advocating for these women. He was on signal mountain talking to Greg Seymour about them. He was in California talking to Josh and Emily about them. He was in North Chatt talking to Alexis. He was speaking to Tracy on the southside of Chattanooga. Jennifer Jack was hearing his invitation in Athens, Tn. He was advocating for them to Bobbie as she waited tables and laid her head down at night. He was mobilizing us to join Him in bringing a powerful thing called hope to the land of Haiti. He’s even praying for them right now. They are a people who have been in exile for generations and He is building a nation that they can finally call home.
He’s organizing encounters for his kids so they have bread today. He’s arranging so many beautiful things for them….and for me. We are many things, but we are not powerless. We are His and He speaks for us when we cannot. He speaks to people we would not even think to speak to on our own behalf. He speaks to the Father daily about His affections for us. I am thankful that we accepted this invitation to join Him in rebuilding, advocating, encouraging and planting beautiful seeds of mercy.
We are halfway through our week and we have power-filled stories to tell.
Stories of our divine encounters are about to begin pouring out so stay tuned….
