Until We Meet Again

I’m sorry for the radio silence these last couple of months. …

I’ve had no motivation to post any blogs, yet I have stories to fill th
e pages of hundreds of books.  These months have been full of jumping continents from India to Eastern Europe; racing through time zones, learning “hello” and “thank you” in 4 different languages, and all the life in between. 

• From painting colorful hand prints on a mural with small Indian kids  teaching them that they’re wonderfully made by God as they looked back at me with eye’s lined with black (a Hindu custom believed to ward off the evil spirits) to…
• Nepal – Ears opening to the Gospel and the hearts of young Hindu and Buddhist men awakening for the first time to who they were created to be and hearing how much they are loved by Christ while standing at the largest Buddhist temple in Kathmandu to…
• Hugging babushka’s in the Ukraine (grandma’s), and praying for the walls of religiosity to come tumbling down in small villages to…
• Singing and laughing with Romanian gypsy kids; laying on hands wh
  ile praying and encouraging and then watching tears stream down the faces of three sisters in a small Transylvanian village who were getting burnt out and discouraged in their faith as they carried the torch for their families and entire community;  
• To now building relationships with Croats over coffee and sharing hope, love, and life with every shot of espresso.

 

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But, I now write this because it was at this time last year, coming back from celebrating Memorial Day at The Outer Banks with
the Rosenberg’s and other friends when I learned I would soon be changing my life dramatically, quitting my job, walking away from America and joining 50 other people I hadn’t met yet to race around the world in a Matthew 10 journey for a year. Gods call to me to join him to go deeper in love and in life, to experience living out the Acts 2 church and watch him heal, deliver, cast our demons and even greater things than these as he would manifest himself through this church. No doubt, an exciting time of rubbing the mediocre Christian “sleep” from my eyes, to see the power of God manifest, to exercise the authority God gave me and dive into bringing the kingdom of God to the nations.

It was also at this time that my best friend, Amy Knapp, discovered a random bump on her stomach.
Taking my hand, she pressed
it on her abdomen and asked me if this bump was normal. Leaving OBX, both of us were apprehensive about the unknowns of our future. Within a few short weeks, this bump was diagnosed as liver cancer and it had spread. I considered canceling my plans for the World Race so I could stay back and walk this road with Amy, but after much prayer we both had a peace and knew what God was calling us to do and that it wouldn’t be side by
side. 

In preparing for the race, my faith was stirred and I believed with a greater intensity that God still performs miracles. I heard stories from India where legs grew before racers eyes, that demons were cast out left and right in Africa, and I watched my fellow racers, Americans, get delivered and healed at the World Race Training Camp. We were encouraged to believe that God still does these crazy things to
day and even crazier he wants to do it through his kingdom – his body of believers via the power of his Spirit in them. So Amy getting completely healed of cancer was no longer a huge thing because I know a God bigger than cancer that can do anything.

I don’t think I’ve ever prayed for anything with such intensity, sweat and tears, with such faith for the outcome, and such hope that God would heal. 

While God had me sharing the Gospel from one nation to the next fighting the enemy through spiritual battles, my best friend was also fighting spiritual battles in her own home in the U.S. while she battled for her life.  I’
m so grateful that I was able to fly home two months ago and see her, talk to her, and tell her how much I love her and how much I’ll miss her. 

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I’ve been putting off writing about this because a part of me still has a hard time believing she’s gone and I haven’t wanted to really dwell on it.  I was reminded of David when Jonathan died that he spent 40 days mourning and weeping. I guess my silence has reflected my mourning over Amy. I get little reminders every now and then that she won’t be home when I get back to the U.S. That I won’t be able to pick up the phone and call her, or drive over to her house and see her. That I won’t be meeting her at her house for small group on Monday’s, nor will I get to do silly stuff like put on finger puppets or speak in dolphin with her. Part of the Spain Posse is gone.  My travel buddy to Spain, Morocco and Portugal; the one whom I prayed with over the phone every morning for 1 year on our way to work won’t be there on the other end. I’ll miss sitting on the beach with her and having long talks about boys and Jesus and life. The one that loved me the most, counseled me the most, listened to me, and fought for me in the heavenly realms won’t be home when I get back in 2 months. And these little reminders are like a punch in the gut that take my breath away and bring instant reality to my life on the race along with instant tears. It leaves me with a sense of loneliness and a deep sense of loss.

But what I do know is that Amy now has a brand new body and is dancing and laughing and singing in heaven with Jesus.
I also know that God
is good and even though he didn’t heal her, I know he’s still good and that he’s still willing and able. I don’t fully
understand this nor will I ever, but I trust God and know that there is purpose in everything he does. I trust that his purpose
wasn’t
to heal her on earth, but to bringing healing to many others through Amy’s pain. That’s a hard one to swallow, but I trust him and know that her assignment on earth was finished. He gave her enough strength for each day to fight the battle. He united a community of believers to care for her and love her in such a way that was a true picture of the early church in Acts. Among this community, there is brokenness, but there is also a renewed faith and hope. People are hearing God more and walking in the authority God has given them. She wanted to be a martyr for the Lord.  Amy told
me many times that she would’ve died for her family to know Christ the way she did. Now they now are. Amy ran the race here on earth with integrity.

Isaiah 54


“Shout for joy, O barren one, who did not give birth; burst into song and shout, you who have not been in labor. For the children of the desolate one will be more numerous than the children of the married woman, says the LORD
. Enlarge the site of your tent, and let your tent curtains be stretched out; do not hold back; lengthen your ropes, and drive your pegs deep. For you will spread out to the right and to the left, and your descendants will dispossess nation and inhabit the desolate cities.”

Amy was beautiful and had a beautiful bright soul. She was the most generous person I know. She always gave of herself. She was also the most patient person, and hopeful in every situation. She always sought to understand others rather than be understood.

She was faithful in some of the most difficult circumstances and let those situations drive her to greater intimacy
and trust in God. The floor in her living room was affectionately called the “waling wall” because during many nights, you find us along side Amy on her knees interceding in tears and crying out to God in brokenness. She always believed in the best in everyone and made people feel so loved and accepted in her presence. She shared everything and loved opening her home to company. She was a peacekeeper, a reconciler, a counselor, and a prayer warrior. She loved to share new insights from the Word with others.  The word was alive and rich in her and worship overflowed from her. She always wanted to go to the hard places on earth the places no one else would go in order to tell people about Jesus.  She loved Israel and had a heart for the Middle East.
She had hoped to go to Burma or possibly the Middle East last year to do ministry, but God chose her for a different mission that brought her family closer to Christ, united a family of believers closer together and countless others who seek to disciple and be intentional with others because of the attention she paid to them. People know who they are and know more of Christ because of her life.   As my friend Laurel said very eloquently, “Amy lived a life that exemplified Soli Deo Gloria – to God alone be the glory,” and I couldn’t agree more.

I’m thankful she no longer suffers, and am certain she heard these words…

“Well done, my good and faithful servant.”