I didn’t want to go. I thought of every excuse in my bed to try and conjure up to tell my team leader so that I wouldn’t have to leave my bed on Wednesday, February 6th, 2019. My body aches from church construction from the day before. I can’t help but feel overwhelmed when thinking of the day ahead of me. I spent another night in my top bunk with unrestful rest.
The past month I’ve struggled with my sleep. I’ve spent hours tossing and turning, hours staring at the ceiling, hours listening to great expectations because it’s an old British man narrating (and who wouldn’t fall asleep to that?) praying, taking melatonin and any other type of sleeping aid, and becoming someone who never wants to leave their bed.
I didn’t think I was going to go to ministry that day. I had a legitimate excuse: no sleep was catching up to me and I needed to rest. Then, as my roommates got ready for their day I felt the sharp pang of conviction and decided that I didn’t have a choice. This is my life. I go wherever I’m told, do whatever I’m told to do, eat what is placed in front of me, and I’m expected to do it with a cheerful and rejoicing heart… Let me be real: if you hadn’t had good sleep for a full month you wouldn’t be in a mood to rejoice either. However, there is something always to rejoice about… so, I slipped on the dusty jeans and the same tee shirt. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, sprayed some perfume and put on deodorant and was ready for the day. I grabbed my backpack with my bible, journal, metal African coffee cup, and water bottle, and headed up to the hill to breakfast.
During breakfast, while trying to get the hard boiled eggs to not taste like hard boiled eggs, I began to feel even more anxious and incapable of what the day held furor team. Our team leader had sprained her ankle during volleyball the day before so she wasn’t going to be with us during ministry, so we were down a teammate and not to mention we were walking about three miles to a rehab facility for drug and alcohol abuse. Needless to say, I was in my head. I started to tear up ( I don’t like to share emotions so this was big for me) and tell my teammate Brie that I didn’t think that I could keep going. I mean, I would. I didn’t really have a choice… this is what the Lord had called me to do and I had to obey. So, I obeyed.
I strapped on my annoying large day pack and put my headphones in. I tried to take each step getting myself in the right headspace. Praying that whatever the Lord’s will was for that day that it would be done. My teammate Lucy prayed over me as we walked and we continued on the dusty roads.
As we arrived at Agape rehab facility I breathed a sigh of relief when walking through the doors. The last time we were here, we had a total of 5 teams at the facility… making it more challenging to get to build relationships, comfortability, and trust with the men. I recognized some of the men and felt excited for the chance to get to spend more time with them.
We went into the chapel and the men lead us in a couple worship songs, including “I Surrender All.” I felt the holy spirit moving in the lyrics and the voices of my brothers crying out to the Lord. There’s power in our words. The longer I have been away I have begun to truly recognize this more and more; our words carry the weight of life and death. These men like me have fallen victim to the lies of this world. They have believed that their brokenness is too much to handle and that they aren’t worth the fight. I think we can all relate to that. What I love about moments like these on the race, is the fact that nothing else matters. It doesn’t matter where you were raised, what gender you are, your economic background, or your past transgressions. What matters is that you’re praising and worshiping despite everything that surrounds you. I love that. I love that I have gotten to travel around the world and truly discover what worship looks like. My teammates Lucy and Emily led the group in the song Tremble by mosaic. The lyrics in the song say “Jesus, Jesus, you make the darkness tremble. Jesus, Jesus, you silence fear.” I think that the song was so completely appropriate for us and the men in the room. Truthfully, I’ve been a bit scared lately. Scared of the future and my transition back into America, if people will stop caring about me once I come home, if I’ll never be able to go on a mission again. Now, my fears compared to the men’s standing next to me felt trivial. Yet, we all still found comfort in singing the name Jesus and proclaiming truth over ourselves.
After worship, my teammate Clarissa delivered the message. She shared about the eternal life we have with Christ and the abundance of living life like that. The good news and hope that we can have with the Trinity. It wasn’t in our original plan but I felt the urge inside of me that we should pray over the men again like we did last time. After Clarissa’s message, I stood up and shared with the men how they had touched our hearts and how they were impacting us in our faith since the last time we had come. I shared that they inspired each of us and our need for Jesus. I then invited anyone that needed or wanted prayer to come up and we would lay hands on them and pray. My teammate Emily played cords on the guitar while we were praying over each of the men. First I had a man that was blind come up and ask for prayer, he had to be helped to reach me at the front of the room. I prayed healing over the man, whether that was physically, mentally, or spiritually. After I finished praying over the man he smiled and was helped back to his seat. The blind man was still blind. There was part of me that was disappointed. Then I realized that the healing wasn’t about me and that he would be healed… whatever that meant. I had faith. Then a quiet man named David walked up to me with a bandage over his right ear. He said it was hard for him to hear. I prayed over the man and thanked God that he was going to heal him… whatever that meant. I thanked God for his sacrificial and exuberant love for his children. I thanked God that he gives us the power to declare healing in his name. After the prayer, David smiled said thank you and sat down.
We then split into groups and talked with the men for about an hour. We encouraged, challenged their views on recovery, and told them that they were worth the fight. They thought we had stigmas about addiction. We shared our hearts and the truth behind what addiction means to us and how in some way it has affected us in our life’s. I got to breakdown the stigma of being the “church girl” that they had generalized me with. I laughed with them. I hurt with them when they shared their fears of leaving the rehab facility. David was in this group with us. I was happy he was. He got up and left a few times. Some of the other men did as well, then occasionally coming back to listen. After chatting for an hour or so we then transitioned into ping pong.
I haven’t played ping pong in what feels like years. I laughed when each serve I hit was too aggressive or not aggressive enough. We were all laughing. HARD. One of the guys named Borris liked the Lumineers so we started playing music while playing. We weren’t playing with men that were addicted to heroin or opioids, we were just friends playing. We then had our tea (hospitality is huge, here… the USA take notes.) After tea, we thought it’d be fun to play volleyball. Now, let me candid with you all… I don’t like volleyball. Ever since I didn’t make the team in 6th grade I’ve been scarred. Not really… I’ve just never been good. I get scared of a ball whirling towards my face. However, I have personally seen the fruit that sports ministry can bring. I know what I look like when I’m playing soccer or volleyball. I’m loud, playful, aggressive, and overall just sorta bad. Yet, I know that even if I’m labeled as the crazy white girl but if I’m bringing joy to these stranger’s lives… it makes it worth it. So, the competitive side of me comes out and I get squeaky while shouting for my teammates. We then decide it’s time to play soccer. Something that I can get behind because I actually played when I was a kid and enjoyed it. I hustle and laugh as I drive to pass the ball to one of the men. Moments like this are ones that will permanently be engraved in the calcium of my bones. Days like this are what great poems are written about, what gripping novels are purposed for, what sweet melodies are composed together to bring humanity. After dancing and playfully singing the cover of paradise city while one of the men played guitar, we had to say our goodbyes. I went to grab my things from the office and as I was walking back into the office David stopped me.
He said hello. He reminded me that I had prayed for his ear. He then told me that he was essentially deaf and had been his whole life. Then he said that after I prayed over him a few minutes later liquid started coming out of his ear. Something that had never happened in his whole life and that he was able to hear better. He had been brought healing through me by God. I began to feel an overwhelming sense of thankfulness welling up inside of my heart. Our God was faithful and heard our prayers. I felt humbled that he used me. David then began to explain that’s why he was leaving while we were talking in smaller groups and that he had also only gotten there 4 days ago and that he was still incredibly weak. I then asked David if I could pray over him again and so I did. I thanked God for healing David and asked him to continue to heal him and to bring him healing spiritually. After praying I told David that I would continue t pray and fight for him I then looked at him and said “I believe in you. I believe that you will beat this and that you will be a testament to God. I believe in you.” He looked at the ground and smiled and then with teary eyes looked at me and said: “Thank you for believing in me.”
My friends the message of this is simple I suppose. The enemy is sneaky and works in countless ways to try and prevent us from spreading the hope and truth of the name of Jesus. All I will say is this: I am trying… even in my sickness, I am currently battling through right now, that has me bedridden for most of the day, I will proclaim his name. I will sing his faithfulness… even when it hurts. I encourage you. On the days where you don’t think that showing up to church on Sunday or Wednesday night community group matters… it does. He is using you… all you have to do is show up. Now, I’m not saying that someone will be healed… but I know he will use you if your heart and hands are open to whatever he wills for that day. He didn’t have to heal David that day. He could’ve waited until the next group of us came or just on a regular Monday in David’s morning devotional time. Yet, he used me. He was gracious enough to let me be part of his kingdom work. He showed me on a day where I wasn’t even planning on showing up, the purpose and validity of me being there. India isn’t easy. Being away for 6 months isn’t easy. Not getting solid sleep for over a month is hard. Yet, knowing that God wants me and is using me… it makes it worth it. It makes the days where I wish that I was home in my bed or that I had the comforts of all the things that once comforted me worth it. I know that even in the hard that I can praise him and rejoice. I will continue praising him even when it hurts and I will continue to have open hands for where and what he wants from me.
Psalms 89:1
With blessings, love, shorter hair, a cup of milk tea, a sick body, and a spirit in progress,
Grace
