For the next two weeks, I am traveling around in Nicaragua. The other day while in Granada, a bunch of us were finishing up our lunch and we had two pieces of bacon left over. For those of you who have been in Nicaragua before, you know that there are hungry dogs everywhere. So, upon spotting a dog that was coming down the road, we threw out one piece of bacon. The dog totally missed this wonderful delight, trotted up to a back tire of a truck and started to lick the tire.
In this random moment, the Lord spoke and convicted me – “I wonder how often God throws me (us) a piece of bacon and I (we) go lick a tire.” The Lord longs to provide for my needs, but I too often pass him up and seek out my own provision. I settle for licking a tire while He wants to give me something of substance. Too often, a veil keeps us hidden to what our Father longs to give us.
I came across these verses the other day and the words stuck in my Spirit. They will not let go…
“…where the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, with no veils on our faces, are reflecting like mirrors the glory of the Lord and being transformed into his own image, from one degree of splendor to the next.” 2 Cor. 3:17-18
The same verses in The Message: “Whenever, though, they turn to face God as Moses did, God removes the veil and there they are – face to face! They suddenly recognize that God is a living, personal presence, not a piece of chiseled stone. And when God is personally present, a living Spirit, that old, constricting legislation is recognized as obsolete. We’re free of it! All of us! Nothing between us and God, our faces shining with the brightness of his face. And so we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him.”
Many times I find my spirit willing to go deeper with the Lord, but my flesh is weak and often keeps me grounded in reality rather than living beyond myself – in total dependency. Notice, in The Message translation, it said “Whenever, though, they turn to face God….God removes the veil and there they are – face to face!”
Right now, I feel like I am only partially facing Jesus. He is calling me to come fully back into his arms. My spirit longs to once again enter his embrace, yet my flesh it weak. I know that once I stare into his eyes I will be called to a higher level of dependence upon him…called to sacrifice more.
I don’t know if I want to be fully vulnerable again. I don’t know if I want to give up food for a day, let alone a meal. I don’t know if I want to wake up at sunrise (which is before 5am) to pray for more of Him in me and the squad. I don´t know if I want to go and find him in the smile of a little girl or boy becuase of what I know will happen in my heart. I hear his voice calling me…yet I’m hesitant.
This morning, at our team meeting, we listened to a Hillsong song called “Fire Fall Down”. It brought me back to Mozambique – en route to the refugee camps. We would play this song as loud as we could and the Holy Spirit would fall and heal the lame and the blind and deaf. We, as a squad were pushing the limits that month – fasting, interceding for each other and Mozambique, crying out for miracles and healing in this parched land. We were staring Jesus in the eyes and we were in love with Him. And he was calling us to do “crazy things” in obedience…and He was healing his children.
I am back in Nicaragua. For those who followed my blogs last year, you know that Nicaragua was a month of extreme brokenness for me. I worked in a barrio in the trash dump. I hurt and I fell in love with the people. (Click on ¨nicaragua¨ on the left of my blog page to read about last year.) Today, I am scared to fully face Jesus because I know he is going to wreck me once again, and right now, I’m comfortable and don’ t want to be a blubbering mess. After all, I’m the team leader – how can I lead the squad when I can’t even lead myself? Maybe that’s the point…
But, it’s not about me and my uneasiness. Though my flesh is weak, my spirit is calling out for the Lord to reach out and heal His children here in Nicaragua. I want to see him heal the land, to open blind eyes, to restore father-son relationships. Why is he calling me to sacrifice and call out for him to heal? I don’t know. He doesn’t need me, yet He is choosing to use me…to use my team…
What do I need to let go of so I can swivel my chair and look him in the eyes? Do I need to stop licking a tire so I can run after the bacon? Am I going to be obedient and loose myself again in His gaze…in THEIR gaze?
