Weekend: Like lambs to the slaughter
I returned to Grenada the summer of ’88, thrilled to be back on the exotic Isle of Spice. This time I stayed in the in-town house with several of the young missionaries I had worked with the summer before. The house was on a major thoroughfare, and early every morning when I awoke to roosters crowing, I rolled over in bed and watched out the window as folks walked on the road below me, carrying huge bundles on their heads and leading goats and cows through the town.
The kids were all still there and ready to greet me for another summer of smiles, adventure, and stories about Jesus.
My favorite Rastafari, Michael, was there, too, with dreadlocks grown one year longer. He spent some of his time in the jungles behind his home, cutting down coconuts, almonds, and other free foodstuffs, but the rest of the time he was eager to discuss anything that crossed his mind. Of course, our conversation always turned to Jesus and Michael’s own spiritual quest. But not too long after I arrived in Grenada, he grew increasingly concerned.
You see, I landed in Grenada during the fever heat of preparation for the biggest event of the year, Carnival. It happens all over Latin America and the Caribbean and is somewhat similar to Mardi Gras. In Grenada, it is held in August and when I arrived, the big day was almost here.
Michael told the YWAMers that he’d heard scuttlebutt that some of the men in the village resented the Christians’ involvement in the Carnival parade. They didn’t appreciate the large cross and banners about Jesus that the team would be bearing through the streets of Sauteurs on their special day. And there was talk of trouble.
After discussion and prayer back at the house, the team decided to participate nonetheless, but the visitors would remain back at the base. I breathed a sigh of relief, not wanting to deal with potential danger. However, my relief was short-lived; Kim, one of the young leaders there, pulled me aside and told me that she wanted me to join them because I knew how to pray. Here we go, I thought.
Carnival morning arrived; our banners were ready, the cross was waiting, and its bearer was poised for action. We gathered for prayer before we joined the parade.
Filtering up from my spirit were words from Isaiah 53:7. “Like a lamb that is led to slaughter, and like a sheep that is silent before its shearers, so He did not open His mouth.”
I froze. I’m not saying that, I told myself. That can’t be God! I couldn’t shake the words, though, and quietly prayed against them, hoping they weren’t from God. And then one of the YWAMers spoke. He said, “Like a lamb that is led to slaughter, and like a sheep that is silent before its shearers, so He did not open His mouth.”
Great, I thought. Now I’m going to go home to my dad in a casket! I’d better start praying. NOW!
We joined the parade and our banners rippled in the breeze while the cross-bearer took up the rear. We were singing from Psalm 149. The lyrics were:
“With the high praises of God in our mouths and a two-edged sword in our hands,
We shall launch an assault on the portals of hell and against us they shall not stand.”
To my left, a man covered from head to toe in tar and black grease (a jab-jab costume—one of the main get-ups for Grenadian men during Carnival—representing to them the devils from hell), grabbed up a boulder from the ground and with a roar, ran straight for the team with the boulder hoisted high. I started praying fast and furiously in tongues, bypassing the courtesy of asking if such praying might offend anyone who believed the gift had ceased to exist with the Apostles. (Something about getting attacked by a man in grease and tar makes one forget her manners.)
Next thing I knew, the man threw himself into the banner right in front of me, boulder gone from his hands, as the Grenadian women carrying the sign lowered it and then lifted it back up, greasy but intact. We continued with our song:
“Singing praise, praise, praise to the Lord; praise, praise, praise to the Lord.
Praise, praise, praise to the Lord, for the battle is in God’s hands.”
The next day, we walked to the spot where the jab-jab went berserk. There was the boulder, smudged with his tar and grease, and so heavy I couldn’t lift it. That stone would have caused a heap of hurt to one of us! But why had our muscular jab-jab dropped it?
We didn’t have to wait long for the answer. Later that afternoon one of the village women stopped by, and in her beautiful Caribbean accent told us quite a tale. She had just returned from the beach where she encountered the jab-jab lying on the shore at the edge of the waves, letting the surf break over his shoulders. She laughed at him, reminding him of his outrage the day before.
He said to her, “Those Christians made me so mad! They were ruining Carnival! So I took a big rock to hit them, but when I picked it up and ran, my shoulders, back, and neck went into cramps. I could not hold the rock! I had to drop it, and here I am, still in pain, hoping the salt water will help me.”
Like lambs we were led to slaughter, but the Lamb of God, that great Shepherd of the sheep, protected us from all harm.
“Now the God of peace, who brought back from the dead that great shepherd of the sheep, our Lord Jesus, by the blood of the everlasting agreement, equip you thoroughly for the doing of his will! May he effect in you everything that pleases him through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever.” (Hebrews 13:20-21, Phillips).
Read MoreThere Your hand will lead me
With many believers taking time off this summer to travel to other lands for the purpose of sharing their faith through word, song, medicine, hammer and nail, or fresh water and food, I felt impressed to share some tales of God’s grace and deliverance in my life during two different summer mission trips to the tiny island of Grenada.
It was 1987. I had just experienced another heart-rending breakup with a young man I thought might be “the one”. Devastated, but refusing to abandon my convictions to pursue rebound possibilities coming my way, I decided I needed to flee the hemisphere to clear my head. I searched out mission possibilities and chose a short-term trip to Sauteurs, Grenada, to live and minister with YWAM missionaries there. Although this island was still in the northern hemisphere, it was merely an island or two away from South America, and I felt that was far enough.
The YWAM team in Sauteurs owned two homes. I stayed in the remote, former plantation house my first summer and walked daily through the jungle to the road into the village to join the other missionaries for outreach to the village children.
My first morning there I awoke early and explored the land. I sat on a rock under a sprawling Caribbean tree to view the mountains and valleys before me. I read Psalm 139:9-10 as I sat there in the morning breeze coming from the sea. “If I take the wings of the dawn, if I dwell in the remotest part of the sea, even there Your hand will lead me, and Your right hand will lay hold of me.” I was nearly out of the hemisphere, but here I was, still safe in the hand of God. Healing was already flowing into my broken heart.
Most of the time I spent there was in outreach to the children of the village, laughing, eating mangoes ripe off the trees, and joining the American and Canadian missionaries on countless jaunts to the beach, followed by our ever-present, teeming entourage of smiling, friendly village children.
Etched in my memory forever are the cheerful cries of those precious black young ones as they screeched in the beautiful Caribbean waves, “Dear Jesus, Please send a BIG wave!” and then, as they dove into the big wave He invariably sent, “Miss Dor-tee! Watch this!”
One morning on a walk into the village and before I was out of the jungle, an old, wizened man, wearing little but a cloth around his waist, confronted me.
“What is your mission here?” he demanded.
“I’m here to learn about the mission in Sauteurs,” I replied.
He cradled the machete he was holding. “I hate Christians,” he told me. “I have a license to kill all Christians.”
“Oh, that’s interesting,” I said, and then I heard the roar of a motorbike coming down the trail from the road. It was one of the YWAMers. He saw the two of us, eyed the machete, and asked if I needed a ride.
I hopped on the back of the bike and we motored out of there and into town.
That morning was the only time I saw the little old man with the machete. Interestingly, it was also the only time I was ever met on my jungle walk by one of the YWAMers on a motorcycle.
Although I was in what seemed to be the remotest part of the sea, even there God’s hand led me and His right hand laid hold of me. And as I left Grenada that summer, I knew I would return at least once more.
Tomorrow: The hand of God during Carnival-Sauteurs, 1988.
Read MoreLiving in interesting times
If I had been the one choosing, I would have lived my entire lifespan in far less interesting times. However, since I am not God and He is (and the world is much better off for it), God saw fit to plop me down in what began as a more quiet time in history. During my life, however, as I progressed from Mary Janes and saddle shoes to Go Go boots to dirty bare feet to waffle stompers to Nikes to sensible Clarks (I’ve always preferred comfort for my feet), the history I experienced raced from placidly boring to hyper-multi-dimensional to the point of violating all boundaries.
The Body of Christ is finding herself in an unusual time in history. I believe we are seated on the precipice of history and the return of Jesus Christ; but if not, we are certainly in interestingly extreme times, nonetheless.
And I believe two things. Both of them give me great hope.
1.) Acts 17:26-27 lets us in on an important secret about our lives. “…He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation, that they would seek God, if perhaps they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us.”
God Himself determined the time and nation of your birth. He chose this year, 2013, and the particular age you now are to intersect; He chose you for this time. Are you uncomfortable about what’s going on in the world in 2013? It was God’s decision to put you here now; could it be that He did so because He knew that by His grace you would be able to rise above the chaos and fulfill all His purposes? I know that He did not place you here to destroy you. Neither did He bring you forth at this time for you to live timidly, hoping to be bland enough to escape the disapproval of a godless culture. Could it be that God has a specific purpose for you to fulfill in this hour? According to the Bible, the answer to that question is YES.
2.) Bible scholars have referenced a “scarlet thread” running through prophecies, types, and shadows in the Old Testament, pointing to the Messiah to come. In a similar way, throughout the centuries since Jesus walked the earth, God has woven a strong cord of testimony to His faithfulness, power, and kind intervention.
- God spoke to His people in the first century and established Himself as their God and Father through signs, wonders, and bold preaching of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Gospels, Acts of the Apostles, Epistles, and the Book of Revelation were written by inspiration of the Holy Spirit and then entrusted to posterity.
- The spark of the gospel remained aglow through humble souls and martyrs who knew their Lord, illuminating the dim light of the dark ages.
- God met with His people and enlarged their tents during the Reformation when once again men started to understand that the just shall live by faith.
- Men and women, both in America and the British Isles, were gripped with fear over the state of their eternal souls and cried out to a Savior who alone could set them free during the First and Second Great Awakenings of the 1730s and 40s and 1800s.
- God watched over His people, sending His mighty Holy Spirit during the great revivals flaming out of Wales and Topeka and Azusa Street, setting men and women ablaze with Pentecostal signs and fervor at the turn of the twentieth century.
- The Healing Revivals of the teens and twenties and again in the forties and fifties of the twentieth century filled men and women with faith that with God all things are possible.
- God reminded the Vietnam era psychedelic scene of sixties and seventies that He was not dead but still alive on the throne during the Jesus Movement. This not so distant time in our past captured the hearts and minds of disenfranchised, counter-culture youth to the love and forgiveness of Christ. Many now in leadership in the body of Christ were swept up as young men and women in those confusing days to be set free by the power of God from sin, addictions, and despair.
- Occurring at the same time as the Jesus Movement was the Charismatic Renewal. This sovereign move of God started in 1967 when a group of students from Duquesne University went on a retreat to study the book of Acts and to investigate the claims of Pentecost found in two books, The Cross and the Switchblade and They Speak with Other Tongues. Many of them were baptized in the Holy Spirit, and from there, Charismatic hunger and zeal spread rapidly into both Catholic and mainline Protestant church memberships as well as into the ranks of the unchurched.
- Since the seventies, God has poured rich teaching ministries into the earth, training His people to walk by faith, not by sight, and to live as new creations and more than conquerors, using the full armor of God to resist in the evil day, and having done everything to stand, to keep standing.
- Churches that preach the uncompromised Word have grown in size and strength in their communities, equipping the body of Christ to walk in love and good works which God has ordained beforehand that they should walk in them.
It is that rich heritage we have received from those who have gone before us which makes me believe that surely God has prepared us for such a time as this, even now, even at this time in history. He has equipped us—through those who have gone before us, through His Word, and by His wonderful Holy Spirit—to face with bold integrity and resolute faith anything this world might throw our way.
My conviction is this. Just like the scarlet thread woven through the pages of the Old Testament pointed to fulfillment and salvation in Christ, so too does the strong cord of testimony to God’s faithfulness, power, and kind intervention running throughout Church history point to the summation—possibly during our very time—of all things in Christ. And if God poured out His wonders during those past dark times, I can’t help but believe that to prayerfully contend for anything less than the supernatural intervention and outpouring of God during our own dark time would be a slap in the face of the Author and Finisher of our faith.
He who has called you is faithful and He will also bring it to pass!
Dorothy
Read MoreLife happens
One of the things we all have to deal with is the unexpected. We have plans—well-laid plans—and life happens! I’m learning that this is one of the “beauties” of living life, and when these things happen, go through it with God and a smile!
I had different plans for the use of much of my time yesterday, but life happened. The torrential downpour my region experienced Sunday afternoon and evening, flooding homes in different areas, came to my house as well. Nothing big; just a puddle gathering on the floor under the window sill and a spongy-feeling streak in the drywall where the rain found its way into my living room through old, cracked caulking outside my window. So after being gone all morning and early afternoon, that needed to be fixed by an excellent contractor/handyman from my church.
Then I started working on a wonderfully insightful, life-changing blog I intended to present to you instead of this one, and RING! A friend needed a ride to the evening prayer meeting. I live north, she lives east, and the meeting is west. NO PROBLEM! I’ll get back after the meeting, I thought, in time to finish the oh, so powerful piece I was working on for the blog and still go to bed early! Anyway, I thoroughly enjoy fellowshipping with this lady, and I was looking forward to our conversation.
We arrived at the meeting on time after a near-miss on the highway with a zooming motorcycle, passing me on the right at top speed as I was veering back into that lane. Fortunately, his machine was LOUD and I heard him scream up to my right just in time. Thank You, Jesus!
When we arrived at the meeting, I heard that another good friend had been in an accident on the way to church. She was OK, but her car was probably totaled. Her cell phone was dead and she couldn’t get out of the wrecked car, but what do you know? The leader of the prayer meeting and his wife happened upon the scene before the police arrived and were a great help to her as the officer pulled up and she called her insurance company. She hitched a ride to church with them and joined us for prayer.
After the meeting, no one was heading her way (south) to take her home, so I volunteered. I was already heading east; why not go south as well? The three of us had wonderful conversation, thanked God for sparing my friend’s life, and prayed for everything to fall into place for her. (She is one of God’s hidden treasures, is out of work right now, is not living in her own place, and has just lost her vehicle. She would love it if some of you would stand with her in prayer as she trusts God to meet her needs—and she is trusting Him, just in case you were wondering.)
Remember when I said that when life happens, we learn to go through it with God and a smile? My friend amazed me with her “silver-lining” outlook as she said, “Hey! At least I don’t have to buy gas for the car—it was close to empty!”
I’ve been West, East, South, and North tonight (I’m writing this late Tuesday for Wednesday). And now I own freshly-caulked windows, all ready for the next big storm. I’ve enjoyed great conversation, was delivered from pulverizing a loud motorcycle and its driver, was privileged to pray for a faithful friend, and am free to put off “saving” the world until tomorrow. And I get to smile at my God who is God and who will evermore remain God. And am I ever glad.
Dorothy
Read MoreFreedom of speaking
I want to introduce you to someone for the purposes of prayer. This individual, Marine Le Pen, is entirely secular in her political views and comes from a Catholic background. She is a member of the European Parliament, outspoken, brilliant, controversial, and stands in a large arena of influence. And her outspokenness has landed her in hot water, threatening her freedom in her native France.
She spoke to a crowd in France in December of 2010 about the growing population of immigrants illegally entering that nation. She warned against the surge of these masses into the nation and likened the current obstruction of public streets and squares all over France on a weekly basis for Muslim prayers to the WWII Nazi occupation of parts of French territory. At the time, the media and political class decried her comparison as racism, but she found increasing popularity among the French people.
In fact, her impact had grown to the extent that she was named on the 2011 TIME 100 list of the most influential people in the world, landing her somewhere on the list between President and Mrs. Obama.
And now, earlier this month, it was reported that her immunity from prosecution as a member of the European Parliament has been removed, opening the door for her to face criminal charges of inciting racism due to her December 2010 comments.
Why should we care about the fate of secular figures in France or anywhere else in the world, for that matter? One reason is that many of us on American soil have at least a portion of our roots in Europe, and our culture is linked by blood and history to all parts of Europe and the world. And central to our American civilization and that of the western Europe we’ve visited on business, vacation, and mission trips in our lifetime, is the right (purchased with both American and European blood) of men and women from every race, religion, and walk of life to live freely and to speak and debate openly. My thought is that the outcome of any decision concerning Ms. Le Pen’s freedom of speech will profoundly influence, one way or another, the longevity of the right to speak freely for the rest of western civilization.
I feel strongly about freedom of speech. I was raised in a family in which fundamental Christianity was scorned, but I watched as the lone voice on behalf of Christ—my grandma—refused to bow her knee to the prevailing viewpoint or back down in silence.
I also discovered something very enlightening in my personal Bible study a few years ago.
I was reading Hebrews 10:35-36, “Therefore, do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward. For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God, you may receive what was promised.”
As I dug into the various words in that verse, I stumbled upon something amazingly liberating about the word “confidence”. It is the Greek word parrēsia, and means primarily “freedom in speaking, unreservedness in speech” [Blue Letter Bible. “Dictionary and Word Search for parrēsia (Strong’s 3954)“. Blue Letter Bible. 1996-2013. 24 Jun 2013.]
In other words, believers are commanded not to throw away or discard as valueless their “freedom in speaking and unreservedness in speech”.
This is why freedom of speech is so important. It is bound intrinsically with our confidence level—especially in Christ!
Therefore, I urge you, when you think of it, to pray bold prayers for Ms. Le Pen, likely to face criminal charges for her right to speak freely in her native France. Pray for her focus to turn toward the God who can deliver her, and pray for others to rise up powerfully on her behalf—in the legal realm, in the arena of public opinion, and in prayer. And pray that God has His way in revealing once again to the nations the precious right He’s given us to boldly, confidently speak freely.
“Therefore, Culture, do not throw away your confident right to speak boldly and freely, discarding it as a worthless thing. Instead, endure in the face of twisted, trumped up charges against you or your faith and stand resolutely, doing the will of God with unshakable faith. And when you have done the will of God with endurance, you shall receive the promised reward—freedom preserved, not only for yourself, but also for generations to come” (my very loose paraphrase of Hebrews 10:35-36).
Hold fast your confidence!
Dorothy
Read MoreFreedom from the dome
Bear with me for a bit as I meander down the river. We’re going to hit the bank a couple of times as we move along, but I believe we’ll arrive safe and sound.
First of all, yesterday morning as I walked up to my church, I greeted a woman who’s been a faithful member for years. I respect her because she’s sensitive to the Holy Spirit and very practical all at the same time. She asked me, “What were you doing this morning before you got here?”
I told her, “Well, I fed some cats, ate breakfast, and scooped some litter pans.”
She pressed in. “Were you worshipping?”
I said, “As a matter of fact, I was singing out a prayer to God on the way here.”
She nodded and said, “I can tell you’ve been in His presence. It’s all over you.”
Well, let’s backtrack. As I was driving to church, some “same old hurts” that have nagged me recently were throttling me again, insisting I rehash how wrong “those people” were. And as I prayed about it, I seemed to be hitting a wall.
Let me tell you what that wall was like. Have you seen the commercials for the new TV show coming soon called “Under the Dome”? I can’t vouch for the program—probably won’t watch it—but what I was experiencing reminded me of constantly running into a clear, thick dome around me, keeping me stuck in rehash-mode. It was time to break that thing down.
So I did what I often do—I started praying to the tune of whatever song bubbled up first. This time it was to the tune of “It’s So Good to Trust in Jesus”, and I sang to forgive, once and for all, “those people”. As I sang, I acknowledged their humanness to God and also acknowledged that they were not Him—couldn’t read my mind or even have any idea how I felt. And I felt compassion rise up in me for them and realized I needed God’s forgiveness just as much as they did, because I had clung to a hurt I had no business clinging to.
And then I arrived at church, parked in the lot, and walked up and greeted that dear woman who said, “You’ve been in the presence of God. It’s all over you.”
A few thoughts:
1. God is the help of our countenance. I imagine He wouldn’t have been able to help my countenance yesterday morning, though, if I hadn’t crashed through the dome that was keeping me under lockdown.
2. I am an epistle—a letter—read by others. Even though folks can’t read my mind—only God has that ability or right—they can read my prevailing mood and spirit. They can read if I am weighed down or if I’m free from care. They may not know what the weights are or how I came to be free, but they can read me like a meteorologist can read a barometer. And they can read you, too.
3. It’s time for you to deal a breaking blow to the dome of rehashed hurts that has been holding you captive. Next time “those people” start dominating your thoughts with all the wrongs they’ve done to you, aggressively forgive them. Acknowledge their humanness and—since they aren’t God—their inability to read your mind, and release them once and for all. Pray it, sing it, shout it, whisper it, cry it. Do whatever you have to do to crash through that thing. And as you do it, don’t forget to ask for forgiveness for yourself for setting up camp under that dome—the dome of rehashed hurts.
May you find help for your countenance and freedom from the dome!
Dorothy
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