One afternoon at Zion’s Gate Ministries, having just returned from teaching English at the school across the road, I decided to spend some quiet time in my tent. I needed the Lord to show me the opportunities He had for me. “What is my outpouring for this month?” I asked Him.
To give you a little background on this question and why I felt lost and passionless, let me rewind a little bit…
When Tony welcomed D Squad into Zion’s Gate Ministries, he told us that this place was to be OUR ministry for the month. Whatever we decide to pour into will determine the shape and direction of Zion's Gate. There was plenty of need for helping hands in numerous projects–landscaping, painting, remodeling, teaching English, evangelism to Los Pinos, and discipleship with the boys. But what he made clear was that he wanted us to dive in with passion, and if we had vision to take on a new project, he would encourage us all the way. This property is for the missionaries. This is your ministry. Run with it. Pour into it. Make the most of your time here, and “don’t miss the opportunity.”
Well, that sounded ideal, fabulous, Spirit-led and free and all…
But I didn’t feel passionate about any of those ministries. I was going through the motions.
Four days before arriving at Zion’s Gate we had our first D Squad Debrief—a squad time of rest, reflection, and recuperation before our next ministry. Welllll….let me tell you, that was no cat nap. {I slept little, worshiped hard, and cried barrow-loads. I had beautiful and exhausting conversations, laughed, and made memories I’ll never forget. I also had hard-hitting revelations and convictions from the Lord. And I experienced an overflow of change when I was placed on a new team of all girls.}
So when we arrived at Zion’s Gate, my mind swirling with emotions and vulnerability, I had nothing fruitful to pour out.
I was a broken bottle scattered in pieces on the floor.
I needed to be picked up and put back together
before I could be used as any kind of vessel.
I don’t know what made me think I had anything to give when Tony told us to meet the month with a passionate heart and pour into the ministry, but I was certain there was an opportunity there and I didn’t want to miss it.
Fast forward to my initial question, “What is my outpouring for this month?”
Sitting on one of the big tree swings (where I do all my best thinking), the Lord spoke to me in a whisper, “This month is going to be your healing, if you will follow my lead.” My healing? But I want to DO something for this place! It was then that I realized that I had to be healed before I could be a passionate outpouring for anything. And He wanted to make that happen. He wanted to pick up all the pieces and put me back together. How could I not follow Him??? I jumped off the swing at peace about my place, I knew He would show me the way.
Not five minutes after my glorious revelation on the swing,
I bumped into my teammate Amanda. “What do you think
about a prayer room for this place?” she asked. I only
chuckled in amusement.*
*{In the past, when I needed healing I found it in prayer rooms.
I meditated in them, weeped, worshiped, journaled. Sometimes
even sleeping on the floor of a prayer room made me feel
like the Lord was healing me–
covering my wounds and slowly binding them up.}
The question rang in my head again… Amanda smiled as my eyes lit up. "A prayer room. Yes, Lord." I thought.
{She began to share with me her thoughts of a peaceful place where Tony and the boys, and the missionaries they host could simply come and find rest and commune with God.}
We took a walk around the property, racking our brains for a possible space we could use. Not one room at Zion’s Gate lacked purpose. Then we pondered, ‘maybe it doesn’t have to be a room.’ As we walked my feet directed me towards an oddly shaped building our squad dubbed the ‘Jesus Lives Wall’. {A grungy yellow eye-sore of the property, this abandoned water tank had now become a “ghetto” advertisement for Jesus in an attempt to cover a beer ad using neon blue spray paint.}
I stared at the cracks in the water tank, rubbing my hand across the peeling paint of Jesus’ beard. I envisioned people bent over in prayer, releasing any and every burden they’ve ever carried. I saw intercessors petitioning on behalf of the broken people of Honduras. I saw watchmen standing guard at this little piece of the Kingdom on earth. Peace came over me and I felt a stillness. Here before me stood a place of refuge, a wall of prayer. Here stood my healing. Here stood my outpouring.
to see more photos from the race,
visit my photo blog at seerobinfly.tumblr.com
Part Two of "There is a Wall at Zion's Gate" Coming Soon!
