All too soon, the worship came to an end. A message was shared, encouragement was given, but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart and the cry of my soul begging for more. Nothing was enough; I needed a deeper, more intimate encounter with the Lord and nothing but that would satisfy the yearning in my soul. One by one people rose to their feet and shuffled down the steps, some heading home for the night, while others moved to the neighboring guest house for a continuation of the night’s celebrations.
Carelessly tossing my chacos on the growing pile by the door, I stepped through the archway and scurried off to the corner. People were already lining the sides of the pool, laughing nervously, praying away jitters, and celebrating the transformations that were about to take place. Suddenly, my safe little corner in the back, with the shielded view of the pool, wasn’t good enough. I wanted to be closer. I needed to be closer. Before I knew what was happening I was seated alongside dozens of others, swirling my feet through the warm water, wondering what it would be like to jump in and say yes?
Gary Black, our fearless leader and outspoken advisor, waded into the pool as conversations ended, and heads turned his direction. We all knew what was to come, and anxiously looked around to see who’d break the ice and jump in first. I can’t tell you who stepped into the pool, but as the first racer stood there, rededicating their life to Christ — as Gary baptised them in the name of the Father, Son & Holy Spirit — I knew in that moment that this was the “more” I needed in my life. A public redeclaration of my love for Christ and my desire to pursue him and his kingdom with everything within me.
For a split second, I considered my attire, knowing the baggy elephant pants would turn to suction cups the moment they got wet. A different Molly would have cared, a different Molly would have said “no”. But for the first time, the apathy I’d been living in, brought me freedom: I didn’t care about my clothes, I didn’t care about other people’s thoughts. I wanted this, I needed this, and nothing was going to stop me.
I watched as squadmates, now friends, stepped into the pool, choosing to publicly say “Yes” to Christ. Tears filled my eyes as they boldly stepped forth and emerged new creations. Swinging my legs out of the pool, I hurried over to hug my dear friends, my own heart pounding with the secret I now held, knowing that in mere moments I’d be forever stepping into more with Jesus.
The group of racers waiting for their turn dwindled and a there was a momentary lull in our celebrations. Gary took the opportunity and began to encourage us, telling us to just jump in to what God had for us. Without saying anything, I began to wade into the pool as my squad erupted with laughter & cheers. Gary welcomed me and asked why I was here.I told him how I’d be baptised as a kid, but had lived an apathetic life since. But now, I was saying goodbye to apathy. He baptised me and when I came back up all I saw were my dear friends standing at the side of the pool waiting with open arms to hug me, congratulate me, and ultimately celebrate together.
Y’all, over 20 racers chose to say yes to Jesus that night, with at least 75 fellow racers standing by as witnesses, supporters, and friends; all ready to celebrate with us the moment we said yes. AS the night drew to a close, I jumped back in the pool, joined by my beloved teammates and friends. We clung to each other, laughing, crying, and praising the Lord for the new life he was bringing to each of us. Gone were the thoughts of “58 days. Just 58 days and I’ll have a free plane ride home”, having been replaced with a burning need to worship the Father, read my bible, and praise him for everything he had done and would continue to do in my life.
We all know ministry is hard, and burn out is a very real thing, both back home & abroad. Ministers, volunteers, missionaries – we all face burn out at some point. But if we refuse to acknowledge it, if we refuse to face the fact and find a way to deal with it, we’ll end up in apathy. We’ll end up not only useless to those around us, but useless to the Father. How can we share the gospel when we’re not even excited about it? How can we share the love of Jesus when we can’t even recognise what love feels like anymore?
Back on that rooftop, I had to physically remove myself from what I thought was best for me, I had to leave the sheltered rooftop and step into the uncomfortable and exposed balcony. But it was only there, when I began to worship the Father through the storm, that the love of God could literally wash away my pain and apathy, Had I remained under that roof, the healing rain God was sending would never have reached me. More and more this trip is teaching me the importance of stepping out of what we think is best, and stepping into the exposed & vulnerable life that God is callings us to. And when we do, he’s able to rain down blessings, healing, and all the goodness he has in store for us.
So c’mon church, let’s abandon our sheltered & comfortable rooftops and worship the Father in the rain.
