One week ago I was standing in a field in the Dominican
Republic BEGGING God to talk to me, to tell me what He thought of me. At this
time, our team was supposed to be praying about the seven random names
(including a place called “Kilometer 17�) of places where our teams would be
placed in Ecuador. All week, I had been feeling drawn to “Portoviejo�, but I
knew that was me wanting to be by
water. Then, standing in the field I audibly hear “Quito.� Frustrated that this
was another city, I begrudgingly
wrote it down, even though none of my other six teammates had heard that.
Last night after being awake 44 hours and traveling 28 hours,
we land in Quito and we’re all feeling robbed of oxygen, as the city is built
in the crater of a volcano 10,000 feet up. Today, we spent the day exploring
the city. I walked the line of the equator and straddled the hemispheres. I
watched the water swivel counterclockwise four feet into the southern
hemisphere and the water swivel clockwise four feet into the northern
hemisphere and the water move straight down without a vortex on the equator
line. I traveled in the craziest crowded busses and even jumped off one while
it was still moving. Quito is an incredible
city. And I am in love. Literally, my favorite place I have ever been, despite
it being cool and overcast (Family, I know you are reading that last line with
shock and confusion).
Tonight, our three incredible
squad leaders met with the seven of us team leaders. We talked briefly about
ministry this month (and yes my team is in fact staying in Quito this month!),
but not much of substance was said. Then, Robby starts praying. And keeps
praying over us. Insane stuff. Insane prophecy. Huge prayers. And we are all so
stoked and laughing. Then Robby grabs us giant paper maps of Ecuador. He tells
each of us to pray over the physical map, over our ministry sites and to write
down any words that come to mind, reminding us that we DO hear from God. And I
start scribbling. The words flowing from my pen are violent. Really violent. “Crumbling�, “Shaking�, “Cascading waves
of Fire�, “Tumbling stone�, “Trenches of burning fire�, “righteous
destruction�…and about 40 other variations of similar, powerful images.
So as I began reflecting on each of those, a minor wave of
panic arose in me. Was it God telling me the ways He was going to bring me into
insane levels of brokenness? Or were they words for my team? Were those words literal? Oh no, what if those were literal? There were a lot of earthquakes in South America last year. And Haiti.
We originally were supposed to be in Haiti this month. And we’re in Quito: A
city built in a dormant volcano crater. Mountains crumble. Oh crap. God, hey
God? How about just kidding to all of what I just wrote. How about none of that
violence? Let’s do things nicely.
And then I hear the
most powerful, wise thing God has ever said to me: “Do not pray against
earthquakes, but for my will to be done.�
And that wasn’t just about literal earthquakes. He was
talking about my life. About my leadership. About my existence. About the core
of me. I have spent years trying to pray out of bad circumstance, to alleviate
pain, to minimize conflict, to shrink the bad, to make things easy, to make
things clear (who doesn’t pray for that?). But. That’s not biblical. People in
the Bible who were used by God prayed radically,
and put themselves in radical
situations where God was the only answer. Here I am on the race asking for Him
to move mightily, yet I don’t want Him to shake anything too much.
That changed tonight. Whether those violent words were
metaphors meant for me, my team ,or whether they were prophetic over the work
my team will do in this city, or prophetic literal destruction, I now am
standing and praying boldly to BRING IT ON.
I want the radical. I want God,
God, God.
There is a war being waged between heaven and earth.
It’s not
pleasant.
It’s not mild.
It’s violent.
Conquering Kingdom.
That’s why He has called us forth.
I am one of His mighty warriors.
And His will will be done.
Is already being done.
“Maybe risk taking is at the heart of righteousness. Maybe righteousness has less to do with not doing anything wrong and more to do with doing things right. Righteousness is using our God-given gifts to their God-given potential. And that requires risk. Maybe our view of sanctification is too sanitized. Maybe our view of Christianity is too civilized. Maybe we need to reconsider what made our spiritual ancestors heroic.”
-In A Pit With a Lion on a Snowy Day
