D. Glo

Last fall, Dodie Davis Glover and I celebrated our "10 Year Friendship Anniversary" without much pomp or circumstance. We laughed and joked about throwing a party and inviting all of our mutual friends, those who've been most directly blessed by our fabulousness. ;-) But, of course, life happens and the time slips by, and now, we're more than six months down the road from that opportunity -- guess we'll have to wait for the 20 year celebration!
However, this blog isn't about me and Dodidra. It's just about Dodidra. When I was a senior in high school, preparing to leave home and head out to Abilene to attend Hardin-Simmons University, I prayed about a lot of things. One of those prayers was for a roommate, someone I would be friends with, someone who would love Jesus and help me continue to grow in my faith by getting involved in a local church. You know that verse about God being able to do more than we could ask or imagine? Dodidra is example number one in my life of how true that verse is. I could go on and on about all of the ways she (and our friendship) have exceeded any expectation I could have ever dreamed up in those early prayers. She wasn't just my freshman roommate. She was my next door neighbor sophmore year, my office mate at PDBC our junior and senior years, my housemate the summer before our senior year, and my roommate again for a year during seminary before she married Jacob. She's been a friend, someone I have laughed with until we cried. She's been a prayer partner, a woman who encourages me with the Word of God when all other words have failed. She's been a champion, sticking up for me when others sought to tear me down. She's been a sister of my heart.
Yesterday, I held her new born daughter. I sat in a chair with that bundle of sweetness and looked across at my precious friend resting from her labor, and there were no words. I thought back to the night we met as seniors in high school, to the letters we exchanged, to the day her mom almost made us go to HPU because our housing assignment had been confused, to crazy pledging memories, to silly college crushes and a few broken hearts, to the day we accidently wore matching outfits to chapel, to dances and dressups, roadtrips, and Christmas parties, Bible studies, prayer meetings, even funerals, losses, and of course, a wedding. Dodie is not perfect, I know that, and I'd never want to put that pressure on her. But, from someone who's observed her life up close for a long time now, trust me. She is a living example of how God honors obedience, and it is a joy to celebrate with her.

Praying for Healing

I have a friend who has been in chronic pain for a very long time. She's seen doctors, specialists even, and attempted a variety of treatments. Currently, she is at a crossroads. The specialist believes it is time to begin a new round of treatments that will cost thousands of dollars and may still lead to surgery. Earlier this week she called me. She said that after talking it over with her husband, she had decided to speak with her pastor and request that a team of elders in her church gather to pray with her and for her, for her healing, and she'd asked them to invite me because she knew I believed in healing, too.
I told her I would be there. And, then, I began to tremble.
Did I believe in healing? Of course, I believed in healing? What did it mean to believe in healing? What it immediately boiled down to was that I did believe God could heal, especially those who had the faith to ask believing, but I wasn't sure that I believed He would -- or that I had the faith to ask with confidence. Wow, that was so hard to admit.
Honestly, I kept picturing myself gathered in a room full of faith giants and prayer warriors in a scene out of the exorcist, only they had to stop the procedings and ask me to leave the room because one of them discerned my lack of faith which was hindering the healing. When I confessed this fear to my friend, she said, "Kristen! This is not a seance, for Pete's sake!" Even I had to laugh at myself that time.
In preparing for this adventure in prayer, I did two things. 1) I prayed. I asked God to remove my doubts and help my unbelief. 2) I read. I love me some www.biblegateway.com, and I wasted no time doing a couple of word searches on healing in scripture. I read many passages about God's healing, but the one that I kept coming back to was in James.
James 5:13-16 says, "Is any one of you in trouble? He should pray. Is anyone happy? Let him sing songs of praise. Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven. Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective."
Was my friend in trouble? Yes. She should pray. Was she happy? Sometimes, and when she was she loved to sing songs of praise, but more often than not recently, the chronic pain she experienced hindered the happiness of other areas of life. Was she sick? Definitely. She should call the elders of her chruch to pray over her and anoint her with oil in the name of the Lord. So, she did. It was just that simple. Not magical or mystical, simple obedience that prompted this plan. I could handle that, couldn't I?
The gathering took place much like any other prayer meeting. We met, we heard about the need, we read the scripture -- wouldn't you know the pastor turned to James 5! And, we began to pray. Nobody prayed anything wacky or weird. Nobody hooped, hollared, or called out in a language I couldn't understand. They referenced familiar passages of scripture and prayed accordingly. They repeated the words of beloved praise hymns. They confessed confidence in God's sovereign goodness, his unchanging, unfailing character. They prayed for wholeness -- not just in her physical body, but in her spirit, in her mind, in her heart. They prayed that Jesus be glorified. We prayed. Although I began as a curious observer, it was not long before I recognized like-minded believers and entered into their fellowship before the throne of God Himself, and He was so kind and gracious to welcome us there, to offer us a sense of His presence among us, to direct and guide our prayers in line with His Word.
Many things about that evening cannot be described appropriately. Some times the presence of the Lord is too sweet to capture with words, and I would not want to take away from it by failing to do it justice. But, one lesson from the experience stands out clearly in my mind. As we began our time of prayer, the pastor said this. "Father, we don't know what you'll choose to do, and we leave all things up to your sovereign will. We don't know if you'll heal our sister in the way that we're asking you to, but we do know that we have not if we ask not, so we're asking." How many times do I wish for God to move in a certain way, but fail to ask Him for it? How much more might we see Him move if we faithfully gathered as His children and agreed together in His name for the desires He's placed on our hearts?

All Aboard

I've known for at least a week now that I needed to blog, maybe longer. I don't know why it's so hard to get started sometimes. The picture I carry of how things work in my head looks like an old train yard. There are multiple tracks and my ability to focus or speak intelligibly often has a lot to do with how many trains are moving at any given time. It's tough to pick one and ride with it when it comes to blogging. However, there is one train that's been blowing its horn louder than the others this week, so I figured we'd hope on that one today and see where it takes us.
I'm going to steal the title for this train from an article released by Relevant Magazine today called "Party Theology." It's been over a year ago that the idea for a ministry called "Overflow" first became a recurring theme in my life. I'd attended a concert with a friend who's coworker was playing in the band on a backyard patio at a bar near downtown Fort Worth. The bar scene was completely foreign to me, and I felt as though I stuck out like a sore thumb, and I fully expected to be pointed at and made to feel stupid for venturing so far out of my comfort zone. But, that's not at all what happened. I was completely facinated. In the hour we stood there, I had one woman strike up a conversation with me about the bracelet I was wearing, another offer to show me what was on her camera that was making her table laugh so loudly, and still another scoot her chair over so that we'd have more room to stand. On top of all that, I happend to be watching my friend's coworker when he spotted us in the crowd. The way his face lit up left little doubt in my mind that our presence that day was of great value and encouragement to him.
A few months later, I met with others from our singles ministry and we began working on "Overflow," an intentional plan to spend time in bars and other places we might have opportunity to encounter lost people. I freely admit, I was extremely excited, nervous, and naive. We calendared about three different "Overflow" activities, and while it definitely generated some interesting discussion in our group, the original idea never really took off.
A couple of weekends ago, I had several opportunities to hang out with my friends in a variety of places around town, including one of the karoke bars we'd originally marked as a target for "Overflow." As I sat with my Bible and journal that Monday morning, reading from the gospel of Luke, and presenting my prayers before the Lord, something strange occurred to me. I felt no guilt. I felt no conviction. What I did feel was a continued desire for the presence and voice of the Lord in my life. My time with Him was sweet, and His grace in my life clear. How could that be? :-\ I mean, it's not like I had been on a church retreat or anything.
As I continued to ponder these things, I was reminded of something that had happened the night before at the karoke place. Toward the end of the evening, one of the bar regulars was at the mic. (I know he was a regular because he was there the last time I was there for Overflow.) He had a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and he glanced back at our table and declared, "these people know how to have a good time." We cheered and laughed, and my mind raced. What would he say if he knew who we were? Knew that we were Christians from a church just down the street? That our one common bond around the table was our love for Jesus Christ? Would he not be interested in our God? Would that not at least peak his curiousity? As the next song played, I continued thinking about the possibilities. I hadn't gone there to be intentional, wasn't planning to "witness" to anyone, but when I was there, celebrating with my friends, Jesus was there with us. I confess, I was more than a little surprised to find Him there, but so excited to recognize Him.
Today, I read Luke 15, the parables of the lost things found. And, I read about how Jesus went to the home of tax collectors and sinners and was numbered among them because he came to heal the sick, to rescue the lost, to save the sinner. I have pretty much spent my whole life avoiding places like that, country bars (that's a double whammy with dancing and drinking!), karoke bars, anything that might appear evil. And, all the while, people were lost and dying and going to hell while I refused to get close to them because I might be confused as one of them. Oh, how I must continually repent of that attitude.
I am not saying that all church members should run out and find a favorite local bar. I'm not saying that you should abandon any conviction the Holy Spirit may have put on your heart about alcohol or dancing or any combination of the two. I am saying that our salvation is by grace through faith, not by any works of our own. It is not earned by the things that we don't do anymore than it is earned by the things we do. The only thing good in me is Jesus, and if Jesus sat among thieves and tax collectors, who am I to shun them?
Going back to the term "party theology" which refers to the idea of partying with sinners, it's increasingly odd to me that we make evangelism a task or activity. For those of you who have ever been in love, did you ever have to schedule time in your calendar to tell your friends about your beloved? Of course you didn't! It was the most natural thing in the world to talk effusively about him or her. Evangelism, witnessing, sharing about Jesus is the most natural overflow of a life completely abandoned to Him. If you're finding it difficult to talk to others about Him, if nothing in you feels driven to seek opportunities to tell someone who hasn't yet heard the story of what He's been up to in your life, maybe you're not yet fully convinced for yourself that He is truly your very great reward. Can I encourage you to ask Him to show you how to find utter satisfaction in all that He is and to give you a story to share with anyone who will listen? I promise, it's a prayer He'll delight to answer. ;-)