Today is Pentecost. It is the day that the Holy Spirit breathed life on the first church and really shook things up.
Today is also the Global Day of Prayer. It is a day for the nations to gather and pray for the hurts and needs and aches of the world. It is a day for the Holy Spirit to really shake things up.
So today I knew I was in for some double shaking.
This morning at church, as we had time to worship and pray especially for the Holy Spirit to move us in mighty ways, he broke my heart a little more for the hurts and desperation in our world, and before I knew it tears were streaming down my face.
You see, when the Holy Spirit moves, incredible and indescribable things are bound to happen. People pray in tongues and prophesy. People are healed.
And then there's me. I usually stand frozen in place, often with hands raised, weeping uncontrollably.
Not the most awe-inspiring thing to see, I'm sure. But in these moments the Holy Spirit is moving me and speaking through me on behalf of the broken and enslaved, the hurting and the poor.
I never would have considered intercession as one of the power gifts, and if God would have asked, it likely would not have been the gift I would have chosen. But as I am learning more and more about the power of prayer, I know he gave me this gift cause he knows my heart even better than I. And as he moves through me, I begin to hunger for more.
I came home from the earth shaking worship service this morning and read many more heartbreaking things. I wept over babies in Uganda who went to be with Jesus this week, and I wept for people suffering in Zimbabwe.
Then I went back to church tonight for the city-wide Global Day of Prayer service. We had a time of worship and community prayer. Then we were instructed to choose three prayer stations to visit that were placed throughout the church. We were given a list of the stations, but none of them had in-depth descriptions of what we would be praying for. I glanced down and went to the first station that caught my eye, without even having the chance to read what all the stations were.
At my first station we prayed for the leaders in North Africa, and for the persecuted church.
Let the crying begin.
The next station I went to had the desciption of "Thailand". We spent time here praying for the women and children trapped in the sex trade in Thailand, and spoke words of beauty and life that we believed that God would like them to hear.
By this time my tears were about ankle deep, and I was wishing I had worn my rainboots.
The third and final station I stopped at was the next one in line. It was lead by a group of children. We spent time praying for the children in our community and in Africa. For my personal prayer time I was given a photo of an African boy, with the words on the back "Pray that healing may come through the children in Africa."
After a few more moments of kneeling and weeping, these children served me communion.
At this point the person next to me was doing the doggy paddle to stay afloat in my mess.
I have to admit that when I open my eyes and wipe the tears away to see that no one else has cried any puddles, self conscious thoughts come rushing over me. But I am learning that this is what it means to live with a broken heart. And this is a beautiful gift.
I'm just gonna need to get me some more rainboots.
Today is also the Global Day of Prayer. It is a day for the nations to gather and pray for the hurts and needs and aches of the world. It is a day for the Holy Spirit to really shake things up.
So today I knew I was in for some double shaking.
This morning at church, as we had time to worship and pray especially for the Holy Spirit to move us in mighty ways, he broke my heart a little more for the hurts and desperation in our world, and before I knew it tears were streaming down my face.
You see, when the Holy Spirit moves, incredible and indescribable things are bound to happen. People pray in tongues and prophesy. People are healed.
And then there's me. I usually stand frozen in place, often with hands raised, weeping uncontrollably.
Not the most awe-inspiring thing to see, I'm sure. But in these moments the Holy Spirit is moving me and speaking through me on behalf of the broken and enslaved, the hurting and the poor.
I never would have considered intercession as one of the power gifts, and if God would have asked, it likely would not have been the gift I would have chosen. But as I am learning more and more about the power of prayer, I know he gave me this gift cause he knows my heart even better than I. And as he moves through me, I begin to hunger for more.
I came home from the earth shaking worship service this morning and read many more heartbreaking things. I wept over babies in Uganda who went to be with Jesus this week, and I wept for people suffering in Zimbabwe.
Then I went back to church tonight for the city-wide Global Day of Prayer service. We had a time of worship and community prayer. Then we were instructed to choose three prayer stations to visit that were placed throughout the church. We were given a list of the stations, but none of them had in-depth descriptions of what we would be praying for. I glanced down and went to the first station that caught my eye, without even having the chance to read what all the stations were.
At my first station we prayed for the leaders in North Africa, and for the persecuted church.
Let the crying begin.
The next station I went to had the desciption of "Thailand". We spent time here praying for the women and children trapped in the sex trade in Thailand, and spoke words of beauty and life that we believed that God would like them to hear.
By this time my tears were about ankle deep, and I was wishing I had worn my rainboots.
The third and final station I stopped at was the next one in line. It was lead by a group of children. We spent time praying for the children in our community and in Africa. For my personal prayer time I was given a photo of an African boy, with the words on the back "Pray that healing may come through the children in Africa."
After a few more moments of kneeling and weeping, these children served me communion.
At this point the person next to me was doing the doggy paddle to stay afloat in my mess.
I have to admit that when I open my eyes and wipe the tears away to see that no one else has cried any puddles, self conscious thoughts come rushing over me. But I am learning that this is what it means to live with a broken heart. And this is a beautiful gift.
I'm just gonna need to get me some more rainboots.
9 comments:
Thank you Rebecca, you are amazing. Your tears will water the seed of your calling for the harvest you have been given.
I missed that yesterday was Pentecost! I was reading this and, forgive my sappiness, I couldn't help but think about the story of the sinful woman who washed Jesus' feet with her hair. She crawled across the floor in the presence of many important religious leaders. How shameful that must have been! Would I be willing to make an idiot of myself in front of such respected people? To sacrifice my dignity to show love to Jesus?
I hope so.
“Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much." Luke 7:44-47
Beautiful. Tears are a gift.
You are in the same heart mind set that Jesus wants to see from all of us, because as you recall, "JESUS WEPT"
I am sure that as you wept on Sunday, Jesus smiled. You are an obedient child of God with the heart of Jesus shining through you as a beautiful rainbow of promise. You are precious Becca
Mark, Brianne, and Linda- Thank you so much your sweet words and assuring me that crying a river is okay :)
Sarah- My first reaction would be that I would not have done what she did, I am admittedly pretty self conscious (and trying to get past that)...but then I think of how strong it is when the Spirit moves, and I hope maybe I would do the same.
Bless your precious heart!!!! I love your sensitivity to the Lord working in you. May you never loose the "break my heart for what break yours" spirit. What a sweet post! I love it
Crying puddles with you. So extremely blessed you stopped by today ... so I could find you and splash along with you in joy, in sorrow, in hope, in victory.
My passion, the children of the world as well. Being called back to the US, the hardest step of obedience i have ever taken. Being used here to raise up an army to reach a generation among the nations, only amazing God could put it all together.
Be blessed bunches,
Sarah
PS Looking forward to reading and getting to know you.
every time I start reading the Compassion blog, I cry. I am realising how tears are not such a bad thing or a sign of weakness. I realised just last night that it is not weak people who cry, but passionate people.
@Sarah- I am sure that if we were ever to meet for a cup of coffee we would have much to talk about (and pray about :)
@Annabelle- beautiful.
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