Looking back

Coming home for the holidays always brings back interesting memories from my past, good times and bad; who I was, what I've been through since, and where that leaves me now. It also reminds of the people of my past. It's always good to hang out with my close friends and reminisce about the good times of years long past. But there are also those reunions that do not bring back fond memories or happy feelings. They revive painful memories of that vulnerable, sheltered, naive boy I used to be. For a brief moment, I sense a bit of resentment or anger somewhere deep inside me. It reminds me that the past really does hang on the heels of the future, that I am still a human being fully capable of failure. But at the same time these memories remind me of how far I've come and encourage me to keep pushing forward. They are part of who I am. Without pain there is no growth, and without mistakes there is no learning. So here's to tomorrow's memories, good and bad, joy and struggle... I can't wait.

Dance with me.

Have you rested enough, my child?
I think so. What have you brought me here to do?
What do you think you should do?
Should I sing?
Not tonight. You do that enough already.
Should I pray?
Maybe a little, but I want to do most of the talking this time.
Should I dance.
Sure, go ahead, dance...
But wait, I'll look silly. No, no, I can't do that. Maybe I could-
YOU DANCE FOR THEM! Why can't you dance for me? You are more comfortable around them than me?
No, that's not what I meant... perhaps. It-, I-, um...
Hush... come dance with me.
I do not know how.
Then walk with me.
This way?
No. Not with them this time. Tonight it is just you and I.
Then where?
This way, to a place only you and I can be.
But so much good is happening right here.
Are you going to spend your whole life standing still? You say you want to hear me, so listen. Follow me.
Show me the way.
Here we are.
It's...beautiful. You made this just for me? When?
It's been here all along.
Why couldn't I see?
You were too busy looking to them.
Why have you brought me here?
To teach you to dance. Try.
I am so clumsy.
You will learn. Now take my hand... I will show you more of this place.
There is more?
Oh my child, don't you understand? we have barely scratched the surface.

Come. Come see what I have prepared for you. Come see what you've been missing out on. Come explore a place that will blow your mind. Come celebrate. Come... Come dance with me!

Windy City

I spent this past weekend exploring Chicago with my Core 200 class. It was pretty sweet. I didn't know one city could be so diverse, and sadly, so segregated. We'd be driving in an almost all black community one minute, go under a bridge barely a block away, and find ourselves in the Mexican community, or Indian, or Latino, or China Town, then back in the black community again. It was sad to see how separated these people are from each other and from the wealthier parts of the city. We got to visit some of the churches in the different communities and talk to some of the Christians who lived in the rougher areas. Despite the conditions, they seemed surprisingly optimistic. We also visited several museums, got to see some sweet mural art, sampled about five different types of ethnic foods (along with Chicago style pizza), and got to hang out on the "Magnificent Mile" Saturday night. I confess it kind of made me want to move to a big city for a while. Anyway, I'm back at school now, enjoying the quiet, chill atmosphere here at Spring Arbor, and trying to catch up on some homework, so I should probably cut this short for now. God bless!

-cm

Friday, September 14, 2007

I just had one of the coolest, craziest, most powerful experiences I have ever had. All through last school year, I heard from different people about a weekly prayer meeting on campus called Consuming Fire. I made attempts to go before, but something always got in the way, so I never really got around to it. Last night, Chase Hammontree said he was going, so I decided to check it out. I had heard it was kind of different; people falling on the floor, speaking in tongues, healings, etc. and honestly, I was a bit skeptical about the whole thing. But I went anyway. I needed something fresh, so I figured I’d give it a try.
Right at first, it didn’t seem like anything too awfully special. They had some people playing music in the back, which I thought was a pretty cool set up, because it helped put the focus on God, not the musicians. I faded into the crowd and sang for a while, then prayed for a while, and began searching my heart. I found myself being overcome by feelings of inadequacy and failure. I prayed for help. I asked God to cleanse me of all my shortcomings that were getting in the way of what he was trying to do in me. I was in the midst of all this when it hit me; God gently saying, “Enough my child. I’ve already forgiven you. It’s already done. Paid for. It is finished.”
The thought of that comforted me, but it made me realize how much condemnation I’d allowed to build up inside and how I wasn’t truly, fully accepting God’s forgiveness. I sat down and began to ponder how to get over this. Somebody in the crowd, praying out loud, made the statement, paraphrased, that we as Christians do not have the right to beat ourselves up for our weaknesses. I knew this was true. It’s what God had already been saying to me. I was already forgiven. No, not perfect, but God was fully aware of my blemishes before he died for me. He’s not suprised by the fact that I’m human.
Around this time, the focus of the meeting kind of shifted, and a guy in the front invited anybody who needed prayer to go down. A small group of people started dancing and jumping around up front. At one point everybody started laughing hysterically apparently at nothing. It was a little different, but good to see. Ironically, this was right after one of the girls had prayed for God to send joy. I stayed in my seat to pray and think. Some people were praying over Chase, so I walked down to join them. After I was done, I introduced myself to a couple of the leaders. After exchanging names, one of them asked if I had anything I needed prayer for. I said that I did, and asked him, in so many words, to pray that I would be able to fully accept the love and forgiveness that was already given to me, not allow Satan to hold me down with my past failures.
One of the leaders anointed me with oil, which was a new experience for me, and then the two of them laid their hands on me and began to pray, among other things, that I would feel God’s love. I hadn’t explained very deeply to the guys what I was going through that night, but they seemed to pray for exactly what I needed. A few more people joined the group, and I think eventually five or six guys surrounded me. I suddenly felt humbled in the presence of God. My legs began to shake a little bit. I felt like I was going to weep, but not from sadness. I began to feel like never before that I was loved, that I was good enough for God, that nothing could separate me from his love. Not my failures, not Satan’s power, not anything this world could throw at me. My legs were shaking even more now. I’d heard about supernatural experiences like this, but I told myself I wasn’t going to fall over, that I’d be faking it or something.
Then one of the guys praying over me asked God to let his love fall heavy on me (or something to that effect). I was so overwhelmed by his love. Here I was, still so inadequate, but his love for me remained unchanged. I finally couldn’t stand any more. My legs went numb. I felt weightless almost, like I had no control over myself. I couldn’t really feel anything, except for the light touch of a few hands on my back lowering me to the ground. It felt so strange. I didn’t know what was happening. I still don’t fully comprehend it. I felt like laughing and crying. Part of me wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, but I don’t think I could of. Everybody was still sitting around me and praying. I must have had a pretty confused look on my face, because one of the guys praying made a joke about how I had no idea what was going on. I tried to see if I could get up, but it was all I could do to lift my head. I began to shake all over, but I wasn’t cold. I wasn’t even scared. I couldn’t stop. I was dumbfounded.
The guys left me there to hang out with God for a bit, one occasionally coming back to pray over me. My arms were crossed over my chest. I tried to lift them up, but they only fell open on the floor. I felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Then God spoke. Ok, not audibly, there was no overwhelming light in the sky, no earthquakes. But it all came rushing in, as if a giant dam had just broken loose: “Stop. Stop right there. Stop trying to move. Stop trying to use your own strength. Let me do my thing. Give in. Yes you fall short. You can’t even stand on your own two feet without my help, but you don’t have to, because you’re mine. I wont let you stand alone. I have so much I want to give you, if only you’ll let me. I love you more than you could ever know”.
I felt like an infant wrapped up in my father’s loving arms. I couldn’t stop smiling. I suddenly felt a freedom I hadn’t felt to that magnitude in quite some time. How had I allowed Satan to control this part of me for so long? I’m still trying to digest the whole thing. I didn’t have any visions or revelations or speak in tongues or anything, but God knew exactly what I needed. I prayed to be broken, but he took me gently, laid me down, and revealed a peace that I had concealed behind my worry and doubt. God’s gift is such a simple thing that I’ve heard about and believed in for most of my life, and last night God grabbed me, pulled me tight, and reassured me he’s still just as real and powerful as ever and he’s not letting me go. I am his child.

CM