Malawian Adventures: Preaching

I
miss Africa.  I can’t seem to get over
it.  Just last week I was watching this
t.v. show with some of the other Racers where these two guys ride their
motorcycles from England all of the way down to Cape Town.  They went through Malawi… and South Africa.

It
made me miss it… a lot.

It
also got me to thinking about Malawi and how much I loved it there, how my
spirit just seemed to be ignited to life when we crossed the border.  Even when I think about Malawi I feel my
spirit being stirred to new life once again. 
I’m not saying that India’s a drag… just saying that the “land of
fire” definitely does something to you.

We
did a lot of preaching in Malawi, in fact, I think it would be safe to say that
it was the bulk of our ministry while we were there.  We left the house about nine o’clock in the
morning and travelled to various churches throughout the day, encouraging
believers, and making new ones.  We’d
return home after dark, exhausted, but radiating with the fire of God.  I remember looking at the girls and just
seeing them glow because of the intensity of the time they had spent consumed
in the fire of God, pouring out onto others.

Malawi
is a consuming fire!

I
used to prepare my sermons.  I know that
sounds smart and wise and all, but after you start preaching all day every day
for an extended period of time, you stop running out of time to prepare your
sermons and you really have to become dependent on the Spirit of God speaking
through you.  For me, coming from the
background I came from with my education, it seemed kind of difficult.  I have a ‘teacher mentality’ and I always
want to prepare and outline everything.

I
hate doing that now.

The
Lord had given me words to speak at one church; words from Galatians about new
life in Christ, life as sons and daughters, you know…. GOOD stuff.  Things ended up falling through.  We travelled for about an hour to this church
down the unforgivable Malawian roads. 
When we got there the pastor didn’t even have his church ready.  In fact, we were just at his house.  He thought we were coming just to talk to
him.  But in the matter of minutes men
were clearing out the front yard, hauling out coaches from inside the house,
and setting up the sound system.

We
were going to have church anyway!

I
just remember Harvey and the other guys cranking up the sound system and
immediately starting worship.  We danced,
we hooped, we hollared, and we let the joy of the Lord consume us!  Heck, I even danced, which says something
because I’m very tall white guy with NO moves whatsoever!

I
think I found my groove in Malawi.

Pretty
soon we’re surrounded by well over a hundred men, women, and children ready to
hear the word of God spoken to them. 
Harvey continued to say through the microphone, “IF YOU CAN HEAR MY
VOICE, COME FIND IT!  GOD WANTS YOU
HERE!  HERE!  COME! 
NO EXCUSES!”  I just smiled
as he smiled at me, kind of affirming me that this was a completely normal
thing to do.  I just knew I was going to
bring the word of God, not exactly knowing what.  I was sort of anxious… obviously because
“pastor matt” was going to speak to them about the word of God.

My
inner-most thoughts repeatedly said over and over, “GOD GIVE ME WORDS TO
SPEAK!!!!!”  Next thing I know I
hear the Lord say to me, “just preach what you prepared for the other
church.”  I could only think of how
well I had half-assed what I had prepared (sorry… inappropriate word, but so
true).  God didn’t seem to care at my lack of preparation.

And
then God spoke through me.  I jumped all
over Scripture, linking all kinds of ideas and concepts I had never really ever
thought of before.  I wasn’t sure how all
of it was fitting together because I had never preached from about nine
different books of the Bible at once, especially when everything I said fitted
together with such fluidity. 

It
was seamless… a message of sonship, of who we are in Christ Jesus, as sons
and daughters, the power and authority we have, the things we’re dead to, the
life that God’s calling out of us as His children.

I
was preaching even to my own spirit, my own heart, and speaking into my own
life.

I
just remember that after I had spoken, I was literally shaking.  Vibrating. 
I like to say that I was “quaking” because I’m Quaker, and well,
that’s what the early Quakers did – ‘quaked’ with the Spirit of God.  I sat down and knew that what was said spoke
to a lot of hearts.  Men flooded me
afterwards demanding to know the places in the Bible I spoke from.  I started spouting off the Scriptures, amazed
that I had somehow supernaturally linked so many passages of Scripture
together.

It
was proof that God genuinely wrote the Bible.

I
don’t think I’ll ever forget that day of preaching in Malawi.  It impacted me so much because it was one of the
first times that I felt myself speaking with power and authority.  I felt God flowing through me, off my tongue,
and in my own spirit.

God
is good.

And
so yet again, my heart aches for Africa. 
It aches for my friends in Malawi and that part of Africa that is so
consumed with this raging fire of God.  I
have to keep reminding myself that I left Malawi in a blaze, a torch, a pillar
of fire on its way to India.  I get to go
set the entire world ablaze with the fire of God I tapped into in Malawi.  It’s still in me.

Ergo…
an overdue story from Malawi : )