War is over, a battle is at hand.

"War is over, a battle is at hand." 


The war for our lives was won by Christ on Calvary with all power and glory and majesty in His death and resurrection, but there is still a battle to fight in this life. We battle daily, returning to the "empty" way of life we were originally handed. (1 Peter 1:18) We battle for victory in our storms. We battle sickness and disease... some more than others. It is an endless battle to "live out our time as foreigners" (1 Peter 17) in this life. 


But thankfully there is no battle we are called to fight alone. 


"You, however, are not in the realm of the flesh but are in the realm of the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God lives in you... And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you."    - Romans 8:9&11


We have the very same, exact and perfect power that raised our Savior out of death living in us. Living, yes that power is living because it comes by the living Holy Spirit. But we struggle? Of course we do, we are human. But our victory will never be found if we're searching for strength in ourselves to overcome it. 


"For the LORD your God is the one who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies to give you victory.” - Deuteronomy 20:4


We are still fighting battles, but we can't fear because the war has been won for us. "For to live is Christ and to die is gain." (Philippians 1) Either way, we win! But have already won. Already will win in the future, and you are winning even now in the midst of the storm.


"Carry on, carry on, on to the grave with strength to engage the battle that rages on."

The Miracle In Africa

      I was in the between stage, you know, that barely awake twilight zone where you’re not sure what that light that’s penetrating the two shielded holes in your face is but you want to kill it. But I didn’t know why I had been so rudely awakened from my much needed, jet-lagged sleep. Then I heard it again. A cross between a grunt and full groan coming from the other side of the bed where… oh that’s right, mom was sleeping there. What’s wrong with mom? Is she ok? As quickly as I had said these things in my head I heard it again, followed by consecutive, short breathes. The kind you might have after falling off the swing as a kid and getting the wind knocked out of you. Or what you might hear coming from someone in great pain. But mom was fine, she was just dreaming or something... right? Of course that’s what. I chose to write off the soft whimpers that surfaced as simply that, a dream, and thought a quick prayer as I began the process of getting back to my precious, interrupted sleep.

That was my first mistake.

     The next morning I woke up to an empty bedroom and the smell of coffee coming from the rest of the house. Oh good! Mom must be fine! But when I made my way to the living room an unwelcoming sight greeted me. Mom was far from fine. I couldn’t believe it! Of all times to be sick it would be the day we finally arrive in Africa… what luck.  But the look on mom’s face scared me. Not that I would have ever let it show. The fact that we were in Africa for the first time in either of our lives and she hadn’t the ability to go to the orphanage or farm as we had planned the day before scared me worse. I left that day, to see the country of Africa without her. Looking back I can’t believe I did, and would change that fact for almost anything.

      I returned home that afternoon with high hopes for my mom’s recovery, only to discover what I’d refused to let my mind think was true. She wasn’t getting better, but worse. Why God? What are you doing? We all prayed that night, believing fully for her complete healing.  Surely He’d do it by morning. I knew He would. After all, He had called my mom to preach, and given us this amazing opportunity to go and minister in this other country. And we were to leave for Karonga in only two days! He was going to heal her; He just wanted us to trust Him on this trip. That was it… I was sure.

     Another night sleep awakened, but this time I didn’t care. I listened to my mom sob in agonizing pain, curled up holding her abdomen from whence it came, and I cringed. I began to wonder why God allowed us to come on this trip only for this to happen. God, whatever it is making her have this pain please transfer it to me. I’m not necessary here to complete Your work, but she is! Please, just let her be ok so she can accomplish your plan. It makes me hurt even now to remember seeing my mom walk around bent over because she was unable to stand, crying in unbearable pain. She got up in a hunch and made her way to the living room where from night to morning, I heard Mrs. Joyce in constant intercession, my mom’s voice interchanging sobs and prayers. I prayed until I fell asleep again, losing my assured estate from before to a desperation I hadn’t had.

     Another day hailed more tears, and more prayers. Mrs. Cheryl, our fearless leader of the trip, insisted my mom go to the local clinic to be diagnosed. If you know my mom at all, you know it would have taken some doing to convince her to see a doctor. In another country. On another continent. Halfway around the world from any modern technology of any kind. But that day was a little different than most, if you hadn’t gathered that.

      We were seen at the surprisingly clean (for Africa) clinic shortly after arriving. Scheduled for an ultra-sound, we found our way to what we guessed was the right room, and saw what we guessed to be the ultra-sound machine. The thing was a dinosaur, the plastic pealing from all sides and half the letters were missing from the keyboard. (Honestly I really wanted to take a picture it was so hideous but I thought better of it due to the state of my mom’s health, figuring she wouldn’t see it as very funny.) It’s hard to even describe things like the ultra-sound doctor nonchalantly mentioning that my mom’s appendix was inflamed. Or when she said my mom needed immediate surgery and suggested we medevac to South Africa, all in hopes that she had enough time left to take a plane there. It was at that moment I understood the gravity of what we were dealing with. And what’s impossible to describe, the feeling that it left inside of me. There are absolutely no words.

 

     That’s when we went in ninja mode. Not really but you could say that. We called home, despite the fact that it was around 2 in morning or something like that there. At that point a message went out to Elders, district leaders, family, church members, evangelists, prayer force teams and whoever chose to read Facebook newsfeed. We took mom for a second opinion at a larger hospital a short drive away, and we didn’t stop praying the whole way there. On our way the presence of the Holy Spirit filled that car in a way He hadn’t yet on that trip; the Holy Spirit, and the peace of God.

    

     From then on things began to shift. The second doctor, a Christian who was from the place my mom was to preach only the next day, looked at my mom and determined she didn’t need immediate surgery, and that if they were to open her up it would be strictly exploratory. He prescribed her antibiotics for the pain and sent us home, expecting to see her again the next morning.

     The pain subsided the rest of that day and night. My mom sat at the table and ate a normal meal, and was able to stand up and walk around normally. I knew God had healed her, but this time it wasn’t just a 16 year olds lack of a realization of reality. I had a peace I hadn’t had for three days. For the first time I wasn’t worried, I knew God had my mom in His huge hands and had taken control of her body and the situation.

The next morning I was awakened… again. The hair dryer was blowing full throttle at 5AM. FIVE STINKING IN THE MORNING. But I couldn’t have been more thrilled to be awake. More thrilled to see my mom with he most beautiful smile on her 100% healed face.  Needless to say our return trip to that hospital was a little different. The doctor didn’t even recognize my mom when she came in.

     That trip was a turning point in my faith. I hadn’t experienced such dose of incredible fear, or incredible faith and peace in my life. I won’t ever forget it.

Ever.

If we don't, the stones will.

I was reading my Bible the other day, well actually this was a while back... but nonetheless I was reading it, and I got to Revelation chapter 4. Now this might get a little deep for a blog post but just bear with me and i'll try and make it quick.


Revelation 4:6 says, "And around the throne were four living creatures (beings) who were full of eyes in front and behind [with intelligence as to what is before and at the rear of them]." Verse 8 goes on to say, "And the four living creatures, individually having six wings, were full of eyes all over and within [underneath their wings]..." (I think it's safe to say these guys could see everything, everywhere.) "...and day and night they never stop saying, Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, Who was and Who is and Who is to come." 


So these four creatures, (it says what type of creatures they are but i skipped that part for attention span purposes), are covered in eyes. From this we can know they see, have seen, and will see everything that happens. And it says they NEVER stopped saying Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord God Almighty. Other translations say they chanted, or sang, as in worship. In other words these guys can see the past, the present, what's ahead, and the inmost parts of themselves, and all they ever do, without rest, is worship. 


How many times do we allow ourselves to be discouraged and condemned by past offenses covered by grace, failing to realize that they are some of the strongest calls to worship themselves. How often do we look at our current situation and choose not to worship because we don't currently, with our human eyes, see God's hand in it. Why do we become intimidated by our inward temptations, and outwards sins, forgetting our rights as Children of God to come before Him "with freedom and without fear" (Ephesians 3:12). Our worship is powerful. Not only affecting us, but those around us. Revelation 4:10 says whenever they worshipped, the entire Heavenly Sanhedrin "fall prostrate before Him Who is sitting on the throne, and they worship Him Who lives forever and ever."


There is no reason worthy of denying Him  our worship. If we don't, the stones will.   

I Fell in Love Today.

I bought a key chain last night from Ishmael... Solid mahogany, beautifully hand carved and special ordered with my name on one side. He came with a backpack full of incredible hand carved pieces, from  the little trinkets, to Noah's Ark, including little animals going "two by two" he said with a smile on his face the size of a banana. I asked how much I was to pay for the key chain. He said 300 Kwacha, which, in US money, comes to a whopping 2 bucks. We bought a few more things from Ishmael, spending probably a grand total of $15. All the fireworks on the fourth of July couldn't match the size of his smile as he rolled the bills into his pocket and patted his stomach. We casually asked what that meant, and he explained that when he left he planned to go get some chakudya, (food), the first he'd had all day.

Today, I met Samuel. He has no hands. He came up to our car, arms folded carrying his backpack. He proceeded to take out and unroll dozens of what looked like pieces of sack cloth, but as he unrolled further, color flooded the rags and beautiful paintings gave them life. He said he had done these with his feet, and holding the brush where his hands used to be. I was amazed at the detail and sheer beauty of these paintings and once more, the smile and happiness he had while sharing them with us. I bought one of those too.

Later, we went to a village where met Ivey and her friends. I walked up to see the, playing a game, with hand-dug holes in the ground and left over maze seeds. Their tattered and torn garments were beyond filthy and smelled like the pigs that lived in the hut next door. I bent down to one girl to say hello, and nearly cringed at the sight of fleas on her eyelashes that partially shielded the big brown eyes that looked frighteningly at me. All i wanted was to hold them; all of them. I wanted to speak to them in their own language and tell them how beautiful and precious they were. I wanted to take the one, murky water bottle they had and turn it into a 24 pack of Ozarka.

I fell in love today.  I can't describe it. These people are so beautiful, so unique. They're so happy, smiling without ceasing. Their laugh is contagious. Their lives, a lesson to us.

We want, needing nothing and having everything. They need, having nothing, and trusting for everything.

SET IT UP AND FLIPPIN' TEAR IT DOWN.

Set up.... Tear down.
Set up....... Tear down!
Ughhhh, set up.... Tear down!!
SET IT UP AND FLIPPIN' TEAR IT DOWN.


It's been 21 months now since we so ambitiously yet unpreparedly embarked upon the Set-Up and Tear-Down adventure. Or,  as it is more affectionately known,  Celebration Church.  In the past 21 months, we've set up and tore down our beautiful yet entirely mobile Sunday Experience set over 90 times - not including outreaches,  weekend retreats, church dinners, or special services.  Nearing a two year existence, CC has been proud to call - one University Theatre,  two hotel meeting rooms,  two country clubs,  a restaurant dining room,  one very small office complex,  a realtor's office,  a friendly neighboring church,  and at least two starbuck's lobbies - our "home",  bringing the grand total to a whopping eleven different meeting places!  Not to mention the dozens of homes we have and are currently utilizing.

That's a flippin' lot of places.... I think it 's like a record or something... I'll look that up one day.

Anyways,  in that "one very small office complex" mentioned above,  we've numbered a total of 18 working human beings. To be exact, the complex is technically equipped with four "office" spaces. A utility closet has been converted into a working area, so on any given day each office is effectively utilized by 2-4 people, the two back rooms being used collectively from children's connect groups, prayer connect groups,  storage,  kid's practices,  staff meetings,  Growth Tracks, worship practices,  and practically anything else you could possibly imagine a church doing.  It gets pretty cozy.

Now,  you might have finished reading all that thinking that I am the biggest complainer in the world...  On the contrary... I've recently been reflecting over the last almost two years,  realizing how extremely blessed we are as a church. And even more so, how incredibly blessed I am to be a part of the amazing thing God is doing through us as a church. It's made me so very thankful for the faithful team of people that get to LSUS at 8AM sharp every Sunday morning to make sure we have sound, lights, and video that day. It's made me thankful for the team of ladies that makes sure the not-so-fresh LSUS bathrooms are stocked with soaps, lotions and balloons. It makes me thankful for the parking lot team, faithfully driving a golf cart in the pouring rain or unbearable heat, to make people's walk to church a little more bearable. Without all these people, and the dozens and dozens more i haven't mentioned, Celebration Church could not happen every Sunday. "So in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others." -Romans 12:5. No matter how long it takes for us to get a building, Celebration Church will continue to grow and thrive because of the amazing people God has so graciously given to it, and will continue to send.
I am simply in awe that He called me to be one of those people.

The Encounter.

"Whether you're caught or you come, He forgives much."
"Take heart, I overcame the world."
"When we rush things, we ruin things."
"You worse-it if you rehearse-it."
"God has not given you pain as your cross."

Such amazing words. Amazing revelations. In one amazing weekend. Not likely to be forgotten by any attendees  for many, many years.

Now I know, this weekend was meant for us to isolate ourselves from the world, put off any old baggage or hurts we might have had, and grow closer to the wonderful Saviour that we live to serve, and I did that as much as anyone don't get me wrong... but without people working, striving, praying, seeking, studying, preparing, and just being willing, none of it would have even happened at all. Without Ms Laurie, Ms Anita, Ms Brown and others, there would have been no one to lead and support us throughout. Without the Flakes being willing to house 12 girls, most of whom they'd never met, there would have been nowhere for us to sleep. Without Grace, Hallie, Karen, Kari, Lindsey, Kristin, DJ, and so many others, there would have been no fellowship or growing unity between us. Without Pastor Steven and Ms Katie, there would have undoubtedly been no weekend at all.... All too often I think, or know, that we take for granted one of God's most priceless and cherished blessings disguised as... people. We are so focused on the process, the problems, successes or outcome of a situation that we fail to adequately notice and appreciate the only things God put on this earth for us to love... People.

All clogged up.

 Inadequate is the right word I believe. For the first time in Celebration's 17 month existence, I found myself with butterflies buzzing in my tummy. Probably partly due to the 75 pre-service, Jesse "groupies" who were delighted to find their seats an hour beforehand, and proceeded to watch us intently, practicing the same four songs they'ed hear later when service... ACTUALLY BEGAN. Or perhaps it was the fact that instead of spotting the typical weekly 20-30 visitors scattered throughout the Celebration congregation, I found myself pilfering through the unrecognized heads to find a familiar face. Nonetheless, amidst the seemingly overbearing above-stated circumstances, I found myself for the first time... nervous as all get out, and feeling more inadequate by the minute.


I was one of the vessels God was going to use to bring in His presence through worship... what if i let myself screw it up? That was on thought. Unfortunately the others weren't quite as... "spiritual". 


"Jesse Duplantis is coming!" 
"...There's so many stinking people here!!" 
"I messed up twice last time we did that song.. what if i mess up again. "
"OH NOOOOOOO!!!!!"
Were just a few of my other problems.


But I realized, or i should say remembered, just a couple of minutes into worship, that with all my inadequacies and short-comings, God had chosen to use me thus far... even when I did make mistakes, (which is unfortunately more often than not). What made me think that today would be different? God is the same with 600 as He is with 300 and he the same whether I do my always job right or not... Which is simply to let Him have complete control. I couldn't change whether God showed up this morning or not. I only decided if I was going to allow myself to be a venue that He came by. 


Service couldn't have gone better this morning. It's amazing what God can do if we take the focus off of us, and what we are and aren't worthy of, and put it completely on Him, Who is worthy of it all. When we do that, it isn't us leading, it's God, and therefor God's best presentation of Himself shines through. We are His vessels which He uses to pour His spirit and power and anointing through, but if we are clogged vessels, or even dirty, what goes in pure, will come out tainted. Or won't even come out at all. I allowed myself to be "unclogged" today for Him. I just hope I continue to teach myself this lesson in the future... 
Lord only knows I'll need it.