Floods

Floods

This is day two of sitting on a comfy bed in a strong house and watching the wind and rain pound against the walls. It is the first time since being in this country that I have worn jeans and a sweatshirt, which is refreshing even though I am a good Texas girl that loves the heat. We discharged half of the pediatric unit at the hospital on Tuesday and there is a large group of volunteers in this week, so I know no one is the worse off for the fact that I am unable to make it down to work. So I can relax and enjoy the opportunity to read and watch movies and think and pray.

But I cannot ignore that there are hundreds of thousands in the few miles around me that sit shivering under tarps or tents or shanties in the mud, soaked through along with all of their few possessions, in fear of floods and mud and collapsing roofs and falling branches. It is for them that I keep asking God over and over to please, please calm the storm, end the rain, dry the waters. His voice has commanded storms before, I know it, so I am going to ask and ask again until He does.

At the end of last week I feel like God was showing me some ways in which I have become complacent, even in this place. I see how I have been content with less than everything God could accomplish through me. I wonder at how easily I can make it through the day, surrounded as I am by suffering, poverty, hunger, sickness and not pray, not speak the Gospel with my words or actions, not live with any sense of urgency or eternity. Blegh, disgusting! It is as if the enemy is in the background of our mind, playing a lullaby to slowly and subtly sway us into spiritual sleep. We can be on guard against outright attack and not even notice that he has already lured us into ineffectiveness for the kingdom. I can delight in the Lord’s graces and beauty in this land all I want, but if I am focused only on receiving then I am not bringing God’s kingdom here on earth; I am useless.

I am seeing a lot of ways that I haven’t been actively conditioning myself as a warrior- in prayer, in proclaiming the Gospel. It is not enough for me to serve my patient’s physical needs or be a joyful and uplifting presence among the hurting. Those things aren’t bad, but they are not enough.

Speaking of enough, you know that movie “Enough”? Where J-Lo gets driven to her breaking point by her abusive ex and gets all ninja and kills him so he can’t hurt her or their daughter anymore? Great movie. That’s kind of how I feel about my spiritual state. Jesus is in this temple turning over tables. Enough is enough! Get behind me Satan! I’m sick of being lured so easily into spiritual sleep! We are at war! What will it take to live in the power of the Spirit? That’s what I want!

Whew, sorry. My mind is such a mess. In addition to these realizations, I have been reading Radical by David Platt and trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do with my life after this initial stint in Haiti. I feel torn open, like all these thoughts are too big for my little mind. Like the floods that are happening outside all around, the Spirit is flooding my heart. Pouring all these things into me at once, I can hardly sort them out or catch my breath.

So I think I’m just going to let go. I’m going to be swept away. Because this flood is overwhelming and it is wild and good and it is taking me closer to the heart of God and radically transforming my life into one that is never content with enough or lured into sleep but is effective for the kingdom of God and the Gospel in this world. I am a warrior, and wherever my next battlefield will be, or where it is currently, I must be on the offensive. No sleepy-headed, lackadaisical guard duty for this girl.

Your love is deep, Your love is wide

And it covers us

Your love is fierce, Your love is strong

It's furious

Your love is sweet, Your love is wild

And it's waking hearts to life!!

(Jeremy Riddle, Furious)