The past weekend my team and I went to Lake Atitilan for some much needed rest and relaxation. It was the perfect weekend. Sun. Jesus. Food.
Then night happened.
Cocktails were served and frustration bubbled up in me. I felt like we shouldn't be drinking on a mission trip. No one was getting drunk they were just enjoying a beverage with dinner. I had to take some time and discern if I was being offendable or if this was actually a legit issue. It stretched me and grew me. It hurt and I cried. But one thing remained clear. God loves me regardless if I'm uncomfortable being around alcohol.
We ended up leaving dinner and going down to a dock to just worship and love on our Savior who loved us first. It was the most mind blowing, high as a kite experience that I have ever had with the Holy Spirit.
Don't tell me that He doesn't like to party.
We came home and as a squad dissected the weekend. Some were opposed to drinking, others were not. In my heart, I know I don't like being around drinking. I shared that if that's what my friends want to do though then that's ok. It's just not for me.
There's freedom in that.
The next day, we were driving to our ministry site and I felt like Jesus wanted to show me something. I wasn't sure what and when I met a couple kids and exchanged a couple high fives and that was it, I was minorly disappointed.
I just had this feeling that something was going to happen.
The following day as we were driving, some of my teammates called out to the driver to stop. When I looked over, I saw a drunk man, passed out in the middle of the road. I instantly became annoyed which is so ironic that I was so graceless. Was this man not the mirror image of who I used to be? Was his life not a reflection of what once was a norm for me? Perhaps the fear in my heart had more to do with protecting my freedom from alcohol more than anything. I sat there and felt the tug. My friend asked for a sandwich to feed this man. I volunteered mine. But that was it. My helping this man ended there.
Then I stood up.
I asked Johnny if I could take the man the food. I got out of the truck. I walked over to this man with piss stained pants. I looked into his eyes as I gave him the ham. I saw regret. I saw shame. I saw fear.
I saw who I was, not who I am now. I saw a lifetime of not measuring up. A journey filled with heartbreak and passionless love. I saw expectations never being met and hurt that ran so deep it almost took me to my knees.
Then something happened.
I used my authority as a freaking daughter of the king and I started binding and rebuking the devil. I commanded the destruction and addiction strangling this man to get the hell out of there. I commanded peace and love to flow into this man like a waterfall. I asked Jesus to penetrate the depths of his heart and rescue this man. I earnestly pleaded and interceded on his behalf. I got mad. Satan wasnt going to steal another life. The destiny devourer stealing this man's life needed to be stopped. Assignment canceled.
When I finished we talked in broken English and found out he lives on the same hill that we had stopped at yesterday. Across the street from the kids I'd met just the day before.
My heart fell out of my body. Wow. God. Really?
I wish I could say that when we took him home he skipped into his mud hut and was forever changed. I wish I could say that he promised me to never indulge the addiction that wants to murder him. I wish I could end this story with a confident ending. But I can't. I don't know if I'll ever see him again. I don't know if he will stop being a drunk. But ya know what I can tell you?
I can tell you I haven't had a drink since April 15. I can tell you it terrified me to be around people who drank. I was judgmental and scared. Fear would course through my body so great I could barely move. I was fiercely protective of my freedom from booze.
Fear in freedom is not freedom.
When I prayed over that man I felt chains smash into pieces. Jesus revealed to me in Atitilan that my words have power to Demolish rocks.
I felt a weight explode off. When I looked into that man's eyes I felt an overwhelming love that I didn't know existed. I felt compassion and grace run through me. It coursed through my veins and literally had me flying.
That's freedom. Loving what you hate and extending grace that isn't your own. Being supernaturally moved by the Spirit. Getting knocked to my knees by the sheer awesomeness of how weak I am on my own yet how freaking strong I am because of Jesus Christ inside me. The hands. The feet. The mouth. Jesus.
He's good, amen?
