POST by JED: Planes, Trains & Automobiles - Part 8

Growing up in YWAM (Youth With A Mission) I was often left flabbergasted by the stories others had to tell about their "God-sighting" experiences. They'd seen him move powerfully, overcoming natural circumstances, supernaturally.

There were the testimonies every Thursday morning at our "base" meetings, usually by the same ladies (no less), whose aging, bulging, wobbling, chicken wings would get more attention than their stories. 

The God-sighting narratives were many and the content varied widely. Some graphically relayed how they'd prayed for children on outreach in Bombay and witnessed the restoration of sight before their very own eyes.

Others would see from God directly, 3 minutes before the meeting, a vision: we needed to immediately pray for the release of some YWAM director, who was being detained and beaten by the KGB, somewhere behind the Iron Curtain - amazingly, days later, we'd receive words of such a tale from afar.

Still others would throw themselves upon the alter testifying that they'd laid hands on the facility's retro washing machine, believing and pleading with God for cleaner smalls upon retrieval, and Hallelujah, this too had come to pass (no pun intended).

There were also the books. The Bible for starters and those written by the likes of Brother Andrew, Jackie Pullinger, Lauren Cunningham, etc. These people had prayed for healthy eyes to be momentarily blinded - and it was so; they'd believed for safety in gang filled streets - and hey presto, the Lord moved powerfully on their behalf; they'd submitted prayers for boats, buildings, Bibles and brides - yup, you guessed it, they got the lot.

One night, as I drifted peacefully into an 11 year old dream world, with the background screams of demonic deliverance at the hand of Noel Gibson, emanating from the guest speaker room below, I started to wonder whether I had "the power."

I looked at the window and started to believe that I was supernaturally experiencing discomfort, on account of the room's physically constraining stuffiness (probably on account of my brother's heavy breathing, or physical wind passing, or some other such supernatural lark).

I slowly raised my slender, 11-year-old shaking hand to supernatural levels and began to first quietly, then loudly scream, calling on the God of the UNIVERSE to cause the Heavenly hosts to stir (possibly distracting them momentarily in St. Petersburgh, Kowloon and Kona),  to paranormally lift the wooden structure - physically bound, to it's innermost potential.

My body began to convulse, the action permeating from my innermost core, the stomach region. I was in some sort of spiritual trance. All at once my body was literally being raised, divinely, until my torso nearly touched the ceiling. 

Then, as if that wasn't enough to completely seal my book deal and itinerant speaking ministry, I heard a voice, which could only be described as ungodly, scream from the very depths of my holy, sanctified, chambre à coucher, "shut-up I tell you, SHUT-UP and GO TO SLEEP!"

This "demon" was more evil than I could have ever imagined. Clearly very angry that I was unleashing all of Heaven to liberate my physical suffering. The convulsing stopped momentarily, and the demon raised it's ghastly, putrid, ugly head to my physical locale on the top bunk, "Shut up" it said, "or I'll go and tell Mum!" 

I lowered my hand, closed my eyes, and went to sleep.

Since that time I´ve seen the Lord move in many ways, though usually not when or for what I´ve asked. God is all-powerful and has his reasons, I certainly don´t think of him as a magic wand, like we sometimes witness in the World around us, or dare I say, at times in our Churches.

The most significant experience of God moving about me occurred when we´d first arrived in Nicaragua. Our house was robbed. Nearly everything was taken, from hair gel in the bathroom, to the gas bottle in the kitchen, the laptop in our loungeroom and clothes from our bedrooms. It was a great moment in our lives, pivotal in fact, because we started looking to the Lord and started to shift our focus to our true calling in Nicaragua.

We wrote a brief note on facebook and the response was awesome and completely unexpected. We were given things here in Nicaragua, and sent money from Australia, the UK, the USA and other places. A couple of missionaries here in Nicaragua even donated some money. We felt very blessed to have so many people praying for us and contributing to our household needs.

The most exciting gift out of the many displays of love we'd born witness, was from a woman we´d never seen before, never met in any way, and in an Asian country we hadn´t visited for many years.

To me, it was a God-sighting. This woman from Asia became friends with a chap living in Managua, who took university courses online and taught an hour-long class, per day, at NCA (the Nicaragua Christian Academy). His beautiful wife taught third grade fulltime at NCA, and for two reasons was a blessing to me personally, because; A.) She continued the lineage of perfect teachers for our son who has Asperger's Syndrome and; B.) she supported Liz and I during probably the most difficult year of our lives.

This person from Asia, had never met this gentleman or his wife either. It was the most amazing thing. The two people, living on different continents, had been drawn together through a mutual desire to see souls won for the Kingdom of God – the Asian person began to support this American couple, who were living in Nicaragua.

And so, the two parties who had never even met, chatted about the severity of our situation. The person from Asia´s heart went out to us and the decision was made to give us a one-off gift of $200. I was blown away. A person, from the other side of the World, who had never met a person - whom we barely even knew, had decided to give us money, not for the work we were doing in Nicaragua, but to bless us in a time of intense personal need.

And so, through this testimony of God´s faithfulness, love and compassion, my hope was restored in a God who cares deeply for us and moves on our behalf - boy does HE move.

On our summer trip to the US, this past July, we were in New York and starting to get into the rhythm of visiting Churches. We´d already visited two in Minnesota and one in New York. Liz took a day to visit the zoo with her brother and his in-laws, and all of our kids.

From left to right: Kreg (Craig), Chrissy, Sez, Liz, Tadhg, Lukey, Allegra, Renz, Jaime, some random, Margie, Raf

I slept, and slept, and slept until noon, completely missing the frivolities of the zoo – just on that, I have always had HEAPS of energy – where does it all go? I´m 36 now and desperately wanting to book my retirement condo in Florida…

Time for another God-sighting. Liz was late, nothing new there. We needed to get to Lakeshore Community Church and quick. Liz had promised she´d be back in time, but who  could blame her – she´d never even met her little nephew and niece (pray for them, they're still in therapy!).

Liz on Safari in Rochester's Zoo (New York)

I printed off the directions from mapquest and jumped in Shane and Jen´s car. The tyres started spinning and vroom, I was away.

Lakeshore Community Church is an independent Church, and quite a big one at that. I pulled into the carpark and found myself a spot (very easy to do at American Churches on a weekday – massive car parks with only the pastor(s), the secretary, and administrators using them).

Beth and Liz pulled in, right as I finished fixing my crew-cut (I´d cut the boys hair in Nicaragua and promised them, if they didn´t like their hair, that I´d let them cut mine – I hadn´t expected the razor to touch my skull though - perfect when trying to present a wholesome image to pastors and parishioners you've never even met in a country not your own…).

We entered the newish Church building and felt a wave of cool - air-conditioning, ah to be an American. The reception lady was beautifully welcoming - politely telling us to sit and wait, then grabbing us some of the most delicious coffee we'd ever tasted.

Within moments we were being greeted by Ken. This chap was the Church's missions director. Ken was recently retired and desirous of serving his Church, and so the lead pastor, Vince, had suggested he take on the role of managing the Church's missions profile.

It was an offer too good to refuse. Ken was tall, strong and highly organised, features I loathe in a missions director. I prefer them short, weak and in complete confusion - it makes sharing our vision and building a partnership much easier when someone can't say "no."

Ken took us for a walk around the Church and we were impressed. Vince, the lead pastor, is an Italian, hence the place oozes with a sense of hospitality, class and style, in every room of the structure.  This Church takes its role in the community very seriously, and so there is also a feeling of functionality. 

We were impressed to learn that Lakeshore Community Church already has a presence in Nicaragua through the Orphan Network (everyone seems to be heading to Haiti these days, a country in desperate need. Though Nicaragua is second to Haiti, in terms of poverty, and it is rare to find a Church who can even place Nicaragua on a map, let alone supports them). 

We were also impressed to learn that the Church involves its members in a third world food distribution project, where materials are packaged right there at the Church.

Ken showed us the gym and the youth rooms, the cafe and the auditorium - tizzy to say the least... I thought to myself, "If we were back in Rochester, I'd be tempted to attend this Church myself!”

We finally made our way back to the conference room, where we sat with Ken to discuss our mission. We did our best job, less standing on the conference table to sing "Perfume a Tus Pies."

Of course, Ken had said from the outset, that there would be little-to-no-chance of the Church supporting our Nicaraguan ministry, due to their current budget and existing relationships. It was a familiar tune for us - we eventually hummed the conclusion again. We acknowledged that it was "ta-tah-for-now" and took our leave.

We exited the building and were immediately confronted by the most bizarre man we'd ever met. The chap wanted to argue with us about why Mormons are Christians and why Lakeshore Community Church should let the Mormon's sing at their Church (just wait a few months, there might be Mormons singing at every Church!). 

Because our meeting had seemingly come to none, I almost wanted to agree with the fellow, but took some time to explain, from my perspective, the difference between the Mormon religion, and the one true God.

Now I didn't meet Pastor Vince on this occasion, but had explored the Church's website and knew what he and his dear wife looked like. The following Sunday we visited another Church and took our seats at the rear of the auditorium.

We didn't know it but we were sitting right behind Pastor Vince and his wife. We praised and we worshipped and then we jumped on the stage to do our thing. Rah-rah-rah this and blah-blah-blah that. We had invited a couple of people and I was searching for them and for anyone else I might know. Then I saw Pastor Vince.

It wasn't an initial "OH MY GOLLY-GOSH, LOOK WHO 'TIS," oh no. It was a midlife "whir, whir, whir, data-processing, whir, whir, whir, ba-HA!... Now I know who it is!" We finished up and the usual crush ensued. 

"I know someone from Honduras," and "I've been to Nepal," and our personal favourite, "My brother's, wife's, sister's husband went to Nicaragua before he was born in his mother's stomach - it was only because they were connecting with a flight to Costa Rica, but..." etc.

We glided through the well-wishers to chat with Pastor Vince, but were stopped at every corner. Finally, he came to us. We chatted considerately, in a pastoral tone, laughing at just the right moments and with correct intensity so as to not seem overly excited, all the while wanting to clonk him and his wife over the head and drag them into another room (caveman style) for a serious, no-nonsense, chat about God, Church and missions.

It wasn't to be. We exchanged details and returned to our "do they eat fried rice?" questions with the sincere and completely adorable folk who were keen to glean from our experiences.

The following day the pastor of the Church we had just visited bumped into Pastor Vince at the shops. It was providential. God was building the intricate web of relationship. The two talked further about our mission and Pastor Vince insinuated that God was doing something.

We contacted the Church office, but alas, Pastor Vince was on holidays for a month - a tradition their family had formed years ago for their summers, so as to not become burnt out. "Ah-pooh," I thought to myself. "Maybe the three meetings in the space of a week was just a coincidence."

I e-mailed the Church and asked that the e-mail be forwarded Pastor Vince, even though he was "away."

We zipped off to California and returned a week later. To our delight, surprise and unbearable excitement, Pastor Vince had replied, personally - though via his chirpy receptionist, that we were to have coffee and NOT at Starbucks (YAY!).  

We arrived on time, just prior to another appointment with another large Rah-cha-cha Church, but they arrived in typical southern European style, a tad bit late (Mama mia, why hadn't I thought of that! - arriving late, so fashionable, so intensely cultured. I have so much to learn...).

The meeting was awesome, probably one of the best we experienced in America. Pastor Vince and his wife were loving, frank, realistic, thoughtful, articulate, uncomplicated, and shared from humble hearts. Again they trumped us! We tried to mirror their words and behaviours but alas, they were clearly of better stock. We walked away feeling more learned and thoroughly blessed.

And then, back in Managua, in another hair pulling, sweat evoking, swear word forming, financially bankrupt moment, we received an e-mail from our brother Ken - missions director at Lakeshore Community Church. The e-mailed informed us that the Church was to send us $1,000 as a once-off gift, to help off-set some of our bizarre though necessary, missions expenses. Thank you Lord and thank you Lakeshore Community Church!

The many encounters with Lakeshore Community Church, all added together, made this for us, an extraordinarily awesome God-sighting story. They're terrific people serving the Lord in their corner of the Earth and we're trying to do our bit in Heavenly and at times, hostile, Nicaragua. 

Our testimony is that we commit our ways to Him and he continues to bless us. It isn't always lightening strikes and volcanic eruptions, but he is always with us, guiding and delivering us.

"The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand." (Psalm 37: 23-24)