Part way through the worship tonight, Pastor Mark Burchell did a little talky bit and offered people the chance to say "I Will" to God's call on their life. As we began to pray for those who went forward, he encouraged us to pray like we've never prayed before.
I thought to myself, well that's not gonna happen.
Not because I'm cynical, or didn't want to pray!!
Instead because it reminded me of the time I prayed with more passion and vigour and desperation than I have ever before.
I wrote it down. Let me tell you the story..
I went on a Christian High School Retreat with Rebecca and Robin one week last September, we were somewhere about 4 hours north of Vancouver, BC. We had an awesome time, especially when chatting with the few students who were really going for God and who were striving to make a difference in their school and community.
But most of the other students had grown up in this Christian School and didn’t seem remotely interested in living out any sort of faith. And it made me angry. A righteous anger that caused me to pray and cry out for them as they sang ‘Hosanna’ with no integrity or understanding of what they were singing.
In apathy, they simply sang along to the nice tunes, and sat down when the songs finished.
Now I’ve been guilty of this before too. I’m not judging them for it. And I know some of the students were actually worshipping, but it just my heart broke for those who weren’t; those that had been taught the truth year after year, but still didn’t actually know it.
Apathy is a way the devil tries to steal, kill and destroy. Steal passion, kill joy, and destroy a generation of youth who could rise up with selfless faith and preach Jesus to a dying world. If only they won’t slip away in to a life of apathy.
Jesus said He came to give life. Life in all it’s fullness.
A life on the edge, a life that counts for something. A life that doesn’t slip away in to non-existence, but one that stands out and rises up. Radical. Extreme. Alive.
That’s the way I want to live.
“The spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on Me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners.”
(Isaiah 61:1-2 / Luke 4:18)
Isaiah prophesied it. Jesus fulfilled it. But He said that we would do even greater things than He did.
Jesus in me is fulfilling this. And as I cry out to Him for the broken-hearted, for the captives, for the prisoners, I know he is binding, freeing and releasing them. I believe it.
A friend of Jess’ recently gave her life to Christ (recently to the time of writing! It was around October 2009 sort of time.) In fact, I met her the summer before that, and at that time she had no idea who Jesus was. His name was merely a cuss word.
Eight weeks after meeting her, she met her Saviour. And her life, which had literally been filled with rejection and pain and anger, until the age of 21, has been radically turned around. And she’s now one of the boldest Christians I ever met. Her facebook status regularly updates us with her growing love for God and her knowledge of how she’s accepted and loved by a God so much greater than her circumstances.
It angers me that her two young children don’t live with her because of choices in her past, and that she hasn’t got a home, and that her family now ridicule her for believing in Jesus… that her situation is so much worse than mine, but yet she’s more grateful, joyful and full of hope than I am. Even though we know the same God. The God who provides and loves and has for us a glorious hope and future.
I've heard it said that converts to Christianity are more passionate than Christians who have simply grown up going to Church.
That makes me angry.
Coz I'm one who grew up going to church. And I wish I was more passionate.
That righteous anger I felt for the students, and for Jess' friend returned a couple of weeks later too.
My mom had emailed me that day, with an update on a family issue that had been going on for at least two months. And the situation hadn't seemed to have gotten any better. During weeks between the accident happening, and me getting mom's update about it I had gotten so caught up in Pais and work and Canada, that I had completely forgotten about it and stopped praying.
I was angry that I’d forgotten, and that I take for granted everything God gives to me.
I felt so convicted.
And so I prayed. And I mean, really prayed. I cried out. Literally, on my knees in Jess' bedroom, crying out to Jesus.
For forgiveness to forgetting, for Jess’ friend, for my family, for the ‘Christian’ students who aren’t living it out, for the ones who just found Jesus, and the ones that are yet to find Him.
To me, these are the broken-hearted, the captives, and the prisoners.
The girls, Jess and Tera prayed too; we prayed together. And God reminded me of Isaiah 54,
“Fear not; you will no longer live in shame. Don’t be afraid; there is no more disgrace for you. You will no longer remember the shame of your youth and the sorrows of widowhood.”
And then of chapter 61. “He will bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.”
And then chapter 62. “Because I love Zion, I will not keep still. Because my heart yearns for Jerusalem, I cannot remain silent. I will not stop praying for her until her righteousness shines like the dawn, and her salvation blazes like a burning torch.”
I love the people in this world. I really do. My heart yearns for God’s people who don’t know Him yet, my family who don’t know him yet; I can’t remain silent.
And, right then, I didn’t want to stop praying for them until God did something.
Of course, I did stop. And life carried on. I quickly forgot and became distracted.
But I do remember, every so often. And of course, ten months on, God has answered some prayers and worked miracles. But there are new things going on that I need to be praying about, and there are still those students, who I'll probably never meet again, who still need to know Jesus. There are those I know, whose lives are wrought with consequences from past mistakes. Those who are desperate, poor, broken-hearted, hurt and in pain, anxious and confused...
And now I'm writing I feel like I'm back in that place, where I don't want to stop praying. Until God does something. Until their situations change. Until their ashes are beauty, their mourning is joy and their despair is praise. Until they meet their Saviour. Until they know my God.
I need to pray for them. And I need to proclaim the good news. It’s what I was made for.
When we become a leader, it’s our choice and our right to do whatever we want with our time. But it’s also our responsibility during this time to choose to pray. To cry out. To not cease, until God completes what He started.
“Take no rest, all you who pray to the Lord. Give the Lord no rest until he completes His work.” Isaiah 62 :6-7.
We’re almost there.
He won’t be long. But there’s still work to be done. There are still people that don’t know.
So don’t stop praying.
