I will apologize upfront for the length of this blog. Future ones I hope to keep a bit shorter.
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Processing.
It’s necessary to any person. It can be related to any event: a wedding, an injury, a death, a birth, a job change, a move, a relationship, a sermon, a training…. And there is no telling how long the process of “processing” will last.
I find myself, days after returning from Training Camp, still trying to put in to words what it was that occurred. Not the physical events. Those I could write about at anytime. For instance, we sweated. A lot. We gave up expectations, allowing the Lord to take us on HIS journey and not ours. We exericised. We sweated. We ate; sometimes a lot, sometimes not so much. Sometimes “good” (read: normal) foods, sometimes…not so much. We sweated. We laughed. We created; t-shirts, friendships, songs, skits. We sweated. We were uncomfortable. We listened; to truth, encouragement, each other and Father. We sweated. We worshipped. We bonded; quicker than I ever thought possible. We sweated. See? I can process the physical events. But, what happened beyond those events remains a mix of thoughts & emotions I have yet to sift through.
For now, I’d like to describe one of the day’s events that was a bit out of my comfort zone, but began to show me that Father is gracious, merciful and faithful in gently leading us in the direction He has laid out.
It was Saturday. And the plan was simple.
Ask the Lord (ATL).
Pray, listen, and then….act. Sounds simple, right?!
Hahaha, riiigght. Uh…if I’m being truly honest, it was awkward. My team sat in prayerful silence for about fifteen minutes. Then, we voiced what we (thought we’d) heard or felt: a red cross, cemetery, women and walking. WHA’?! We didn’t feel like any one thing connected or confirmed another. So what else do you do in a time like that except get in the car and drive?!
No, we didn’t know where we were going.
No, we didn’t have a “plan” (other than to keep praying, listening and acting).
No, I wasn’t the most confident of people in what we were doing.
In fact, I remember being in the car vaguely aware of the musical montage happening around me, but engaging the Father once more:
“What are we doing?!” “Where are we going?!” “We have no direction!”
Ever so quietly did He whisper to me, “just keep following Me.”
“Uh, excuse me?! I don’t feel like we’re following anything, much less You! We’re just driving.”
“Just keep following Me.”
“Ehm, okaayy…”
So, we drove. When we’d come to an intersection, someone would say right, left or straight and on we’d drive. An hour or so later, we arrive in Dallas, GA. Think more small-town-USA than Texas metroplex for a visual of this town. We parked the car to walk down the main street of town. As we did, we came across a little art store. We have an artist on our team (Keryn). We went in. It was full of stuff – created, bought, intricate, plain, odd, normal, fun and captivating – just stuff. In the second room, we see a small handmade red jeweled cross. A few of us begin to engage the owner, a sweet woman named Lyn, in conversation. As it progresses, we discover that she has a bad knee. She’s been through four surgeries already and the doctors are at a loss for how to fix her. Instantly, I feel as if we should pray over this woman. It’s not one of those flippant “Oh, maybe it’d be a good idea to pray for her…” thoughts. It was a stirring within…”pray for her.” As I’m contemplating this (“Really, Lord?! A group of random young people walk in to her store and start talking to her about the 11 month journey we’re headed out on, why we’re doing it and how we got here…she already (visibly) thinks we’re strange. Asking her if we can pray over her’s just going to verify it!”), my teammate Cody, who’s been hangin’ out in the background as us ladies chat with Lyn, says to me “hey, will one of you ladies pray over her?!”. “Alright, alright…I hear You!” Yes, Cody, I will. Through more conversation with Lyn, we also discover she’s concerned about losing the business. Eventually, I ask if she’d allow me to pray over her. She cautiously agrees and, when it looks as if there will be a slight break from customers, I pray. Nothing fancy, nothing profound. Just a prayer for miraculous healing, the knitting back together of ligaments, mending of cartilage, supernatural provision for her business and a blessing on her family. When we finish, Lyn starts jabbering away again…but, she is visibly emotional. She chokes up and one of my teammates diverts the conversation to something a little more “normal”. We leave our blog info with Lyn, get business cards from her, make a couple of purchases and…leave. Simple.
As we’re walking back to the car, it occurs to me (and my team) that as we were driving with no map, no direction and no idea where we were headed we passed by three cemeteries. Three. Any skeptic can explain away having to park a car and walk to get to a store, the existence of a red jeweled cross in an arts store and the owner of that store being a woman. They could even explain away the cemeteries (though, in all honesty, how likely is it that we – a group of out-of-staters with no map and no knowledge of the area – would pass by one cemetery during a (seemingly) directionless drive, let alone THREE!).
But, I choose to believe that my God is deeply invested in each of us and that He speaks to us all of the time. If we would but listen, we would hear and could plant some small (or big!) seed in the heart of another trusting that He has lead it, He has orchestrated it, He has directed it and He “…who began a good work in [them] will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”
