5am- wake up call on the cold hard floor of the library. The sound of air bursting forth from sleeping pads pierces the silence.
Then, the squish and squeaking of plastic as 21 racers slowly rise with the morning sun to roll their pads and pack away the last of their affairs.
The free table is filled, piled high with clothes and other items we’ve carried to this point but haven’t used much or can’t carry any more.
Teeth are brushed, hair is combed, travel day clothes put on and then the last of it is stuffed into the very last nooks, crannies and pockets of day packs. Air-porters slide on over burrito bags. One last look around at the now empty dorm rooms, filled with nothing but bare bunk beds with wooden boards where mattresses are normally held. The cold tile is swept one last time. The outhouse squatty potties used just in case.
And then all twenty one racers begin to march one by one down the rocky dirt path, past the garden, past the volleyball net we fixed a dozen times, past the children’s chapel and the open space used as a soccer field, to the host’s house.
Bags are dropped on the doorstep of our host as 21 racers wait for the bus and van to arrive to take them on the next part of their journey. The sun is above the horizon now illuminating the trees and sad expressions on the faces of the approaching students wrapped up in winter jackets and sweaters ready to say their last good byes.
Hugs and kisses and tears flood the area. Some of the racers just stand and hold the girls while they cry and reassure them that they’re Facebook friends, that they’ll keep in touch, that they should keep learning English and come to America one day, that they will pray about coming back.
Just after 6am – the old green bus and a van pull up to the end of the path unable to make its way towards the racers, they grab their things and head off down the path towards the road- this time accompanied with helpful hands.
Packs and people cram into the vehicles and by 6:20 all 21 racers are on their way to the airport. We pass Glory’s big white house/ orphanage. My mind is brought back to the many nights we spent there in prayer anointing our brothers and sisters in Christ with oil and praying over them relentlessly for the Lord to heal their ears. We had the joy of watching one of our students become blessed with the gift of healed eyesight. But despite our prayers we left and our friends could not yet hear.
Why God? Why did you tell me to pray over them every night for healing? Why did you get my hopes up?
I began to question my authority, was I walking in it? Maybe I didn’t actually believe what I thought I believed, maybe my faith wasn’t strong enough. God is it me?
Fast forward one flight to Cambodia for the awakening, fast forward flights from Cambodia to Malaysia, to Singapore, to Ethiopia, and then to Johannesburg, fast forward one long bus ride to Durban to Month 6 Debrief.
My team sits in a circle with our squad leaders and coaches . How was your month?
It was great, one of the best months yet. But disappointing. We prayed so hard and yet God didn’t heal the three deaf and mute siblings.
Maybe it wasn’t just about healing Liz, maybe it wasn’t just about you or your authority or what you want. Maybe it was about sharing God’s Love. That family got to see how the Lord sent missionaries all the way from America who went every single night to pray for healing over them and for them. That family got to see the way God and His love pursues them, feel how much He loves them – because you were obedient.
Sitting with my team I felt my doubts begin to slide away, the attacks from the enemy about my faith not being strong enough, about whether I even had the power of the Holy Spirit in me or not- it began to fade.
So simply put, that this journey and path was never as small as just walking in the gift of healing. The purpose of the prayer, the purpose of the obedience was not to bring healing but to deliver love, His love.
“If I have the gift of prophecy and can understand all secrets and every form of knowledge, and if I have absolute faith so as to move mountains but have no love, I am nothing. “
1 Corinthians 13:2
It is first and foremost always about love.
