[An excerpt from my journal] “ I’ve always wondered what it would be like to camp on Everest, snow blasting your tent as it flaps in the wind like a string of Nepal prayer flags. I’m writing this as I am in my tent, during a crazy sandstorm. Everything in my tent has a layer of dust, I had to shake the dust off my pillow before I got my showered body into my dusty sleeping bag. What was even the point of a shower when you immediately walk into a dust cloud. This storm is so loud. so intense. Dear Yahweh, be with the squad… I can sense a heaviness, a darkness; protect them and keep them under the safety of you wings.”
My time in Swaziland was written with a dark pen. The first time I came to Swaziland, in 2015, it was shrouded in darkness as well, but this time was different. The reality is, Swaziland is a spiritual battlefield, although this time I saw with my own eyes that we were on the winning side. I fully realized the power we carry with us through the Holy Spirit. I knew the Lord had more for Swaziland this time.
Redemption. There was going to be redemption this time around. Right off the bat I started to get words for the people of Swazi; Heavenly rain is coming, the drought ridden past is over, Swaziland will thrive once again, Yahweh will provide. It so happened that many people on our squad also carried an undeniable hope for Swaziland, Her children, and Her people.
And the Devil was not happy.
Feelings unsettled and worried started to make their way into the spirits of M Squad. Unknown noises in unknown places lead our minds to imagine the worst, and Darkness is quick to take hold of thoughts like that.
During the crazy sandstorm I referenced earlier, the corrugated roof constantly quivered under the force of the wind. Thunder came, not from the clouds or the howling winds, but from the shaking roofs, tarps and tents that made up our sleeping quarters. Everyone was on edge and hyper-alert. The drought-ridden dust filled our lungs, and covered our faces and our sleeping bags. Those who could sleep a midst all this, were woken by nightmares, or promptings of the Holy Spirit to pray.
I might have gotten an hour of sleep that night, at the most. I was up, sitting outside in the storm, to pray for people, and to remind them of the Power of Yahweh.
He wins in the end.
That next night we worshiped as a squad, we prayed over each other and spoke truth out about Jesus and His Kingdom. It started to rain, as we worshiped. The drought-ridden ground soaked up the rain, just has the drought-ridden ears of the village around us heard the melodies of peace and prayer.
There was a shift.
That night, the sky roared, lighting split the Darkness and rain came down. Our God spread His awesome wings and fought for us that night.
Psalm 18 “…The Lord also thundered in the heavens, and the Most High uttered his voice, hailstones and coals of fire. And he sent out his arrows and scattered them; he flashed forth lightnings and routed them…who rescued me from my enemies; yes, you exalted me above those who rose against me; you delivered me from the man of violence. For this I will praise you, O Lord, among the nations, and sing to your name. Great salvation he brings to his king, and shows steadfast love to his anointed, to David and his offspring forever.”
Even though the Devil tried to write off Swazi with a dark pen, he made the incredible mistake of writing it in the sky…
…So that all may know the Power of our God.
