“heal my heart and make it clean // open up my eyes to the things unseen // show me how to love like you have loved me // BREAK MY HEART FOR WHAT BREAKS YOURS // everything I am for your kingdom’s cause”
This morning at base worship I sang those words. And I cried to those words. Not the first time for either event. But tonight I got to experience the words. Normally I go to a Bible study on Tuesday nights, but tonight I switched places with another teammate who hadn’t gotten to go yet.
So, in his stead, I went to “feed the hungry” at a local church. This is something we’ve been doing all month, so I didn’t expect it to be groundbreaking or earth shattering. I should know better by now.
The first table I sat with didn’t speak a word to me besides their names
I thought, “Ok…it’s going to be a long three hours.”
When they left, I got up and went to help out at the serving line. As we’re scooping food out into bowls, this man walks up and starts mumbling about how beautiful we are. Since drunkenness is pretty much a constant for many of the indigenous people, I just ignored the comment as banter and proceeded to ask, “Soup or noodles?”.
He kept trying to get a response from me or the girl serving with me.
“You’re beautiful. It’s unreal. You’re beautiful people.”
I try again, “do you want soup or noodles?”
He finally gives up, takes his bowl and sits down.
After everyone had been served, I found a woman sitting alone and asked if I could join her. She was a lot more responsive and interested so I regained hope for a fruitful evening. But as she was talking to me about her life, she and a woman across the room erupted in some argument that caused a shouting match and general uproar. Then a man is walking towards her and she’s raising her soup spoon like it’s a weapon. Soon, Casanova from the food line has joined us at the table, coming to defend the woman sitting with me.
This is normal here.
People shouting obscenities and getting violent. Drunkenness in the middle of the day. Normal. Part of the culture.
But it’s not normal! And the heart of God that I asked for, I got it. I was getting a glimpse. The layers were beginning to peel away and I was seeing the reality, the gravity, of these people’s situation.
The ruckus died down, but Casanova stayed. He began with the “beautiful” bit again, but this time he said, “I see spirits. And your spirit is beautiful.” I told him that it was all Christ in me. That’s all the good there is. He then began to argue that man is born into life, not sin. “We’re not bad. People are good.”
This and other lies began to pour from his mouth. And quickly, his tone changed from one of flattery to one of malevolence and abrasion. It was like a switch has flipped and a totally different person was sitting before me. The space across the table was growing smaller as he edged ever closer with each angry word he said. At some point, one of my male teammates shows up next to me because people could tell it was getting heated. At this point I was just listening and then speaking calm, confident truth. Our discussion went on like this for a few minutes. Then all of the sudden, he came back to normal. I told him the reason we (my team) were here is because we believe there is more to God than blessing and prospering us for our own good. We know that this Hope we have is needed by everyone and they are worth it. That he is worth it.
“What yous guys are doing is big! You’re deadly! It’s awesome. You’re a beautiful spirit.”
I learned later that the entire time Charles was sitting over there with me, he was praying. And as the Holy Spirit gave me boldness to stay the course and stand unflinching in the truth, something just changed in the man’s countenance. It was totally an answered prayer!
Before my table buddies left, the woman had asked us to pray healing over pain in her neck and I got to pray for the man as well.
Person after person that I talked to tonight just continued to peel back the layers. My heart broke a little more each time. I wanted to cry or throw up; anything to express the unrest brewing within. I just began to intercede as my heart grieved.
I literally cannot express the things I felt tonight. I saw a people who hope for nothing. A people who feel unloved. Undesired. Nameless. Faceless. Displaced.
All within their own community.
So many that we feed and pray for on Sunday are seen stumbling down the street on Monday, drunk at 10am. They literally look like zombies. Like a shell of a person.
This is the face of hopelessness.
But in this moment when I saw the prevalence of the enemy’s working, I REJOICED that He that is within me is GREATER! My heart is still wrecked for these people, but I know that God is greater. And he has declared his intention for all men. He would that all would know his invitation to life. And as his servant, it’s my job to bring that. They need to know. And (something I’m still learning to become confident in) on top of this, he has given us authority to break their chains. I don’t’ just tell the woman talking to me about the voices she hears that tell her to bang her head on a wall that “I’ll be praying” for her. I lay hands on her and speak directly to the enemy. Why do we get scared of him that can’t touch us? I felt such boldness because in all of these situations I was in tonight, I knew with everything in me, that Christ in me was REAL and LIFE-GIVING and way more POWERFUL than the enemy!
Folks, the battle is all around us. It’s not just in the Aboriginal community. You don’t have to come to Australia to find it. But it IS raging here. And it’s awakening a passion in me like I’ve never known before. Please pray for these people! They are in desperate need for an encounter with the Spirit of God. My time here ends one week from today. But that doesn’t stop us from praying down the strongholds!
I feel oh, so very high school for this music reference, but the only song going through my head after I left there tonight was a song by Paramore called “We Are Broken” so I’ve included it.
(Forgive the terrible video from Youtube…I wanted one that had lyrics)
Meet Patrick and Doreen. A few of my friends from dinner tonight. Doreen called me “sista girl”.



