We've traveled long and far by night
And though we know that God is light
The world is dark; we trip and fall
We stumble, stagger, falter, crawl
And no, we're not completely lost
And yes, the journey's worth the cost
But we're exhausted, spent and sore
And long to rest, renew, restore
But in the dark encircling sky
A star still shines; we hear the cry
Of one who loved and entered earth
To show us what our lives are worth
So like the magi long ago
We'll follow on and we will know
Our savior face to face someday
And darkness will dissolve away
-MM
Thursday, December 24, 2015
Saturday, December 5, 2015
Two Stories
Yesterday I talked with some friends about terrorism. I have
a little experience with the subject because I lived in Peru during some very
difficult years, when the Shining Path terrorist organization held the country strongly
in its grip. Another group, the Tupac Amaru Revolutionary Movement, was also active
at the time. Shining Path may be the most brutal terrorist organization you’ve
never heard of. An expert quoted in a Toronto Star article described it as “absolutely, totally ruthless." The group killed an estimated 70,000 people.
The Shining Path was a fan of car bombs, and we could hear
them on a regular basis and feel them shake the house. One of my most poignant
parenting moments came when there was a fairly significant explosion involving
our gas oven, and my son, who was in the house at the time, didn’t come to the
kitchen to investigate. I found him in his bedroom, calmly working at his desk,
and when I explained what had happened he said, “Oh, I just thought it was
another bomb.” The moment is still vivid
in my memory. I stared at him as the sort of life we were living suddenly became
crystal clear. Was it OK to raise a child in a place where bombs had become background noise? None of the parenting
books I had read covered that.
Terrorism can invoke strong feelings of powerlessness and
loss of control, which was a focus of yesterday’s discussion. We all feel a
need to respond somehow, but what can we do?
I shared two stories with my friends, and I’ve decided to share them here,
as well.
The first story begins before I actually moved to Peru. I
was living in Costa Rica, where my husband Dan and I were attending language
school. A small group of students, all eventually headed to Peru, met together
on a regular basis to pray.
The day before one of our scheduled meetings, I suddenly had
a very strong urge to pray for the conversion of Peruvian terrorists. It was
one of the most intense burdens I’ve ever felt and I prayed with much intention
and focus all through that day and into the next. I went to the scheduled
prayer meeting with the burden still strongly on my heart. During our prayer
time, another student also prayed that terrorists would be drawn to Christ. It wasn’t something I remembered anyone praying for in the past,
so I assumed that God had burdened his heart as well.
Dan and I finished language study and moved to Peru. In
Peru, I was introduced to a group of missionaries from various denominations
and sending agencies. One of them told an incredible story. About a year
earlier, she and her husband had been traveling in a mountain area when they
were taken hostage. Eventually they were released,
which was a truly miraculous occurrence. The rebels kept their car, however, and
everything in it. There was an evangelistic film in the car, along with the equipment to show it.
Jan was telling the story now because there was a new
development. She had made contact with a former rebel who had been part of the
group who kidnapped her. He told her that they had planned to kill her and her
husband, but that “something” kept them from it. He also said that the men
watched the movie they had found in the car multiple times. As a result, many
of the rebels had left the group. He himself had also eventually left and become a Christian.
The story thrilled me, and I told Dan about it later that
day. As I was talking, I suddenly remembered the prayer burden I had felt when
we lived in Costa Rica. I wondered aloud how the timing might relate to Jan’s
experience. Dan remarked that he probably had the date of the prayer meeting on
his old calendar, so he could figure it out. He dug out the calendar and told
me the date. I got goosebumps as I realized that the day I was suddenly
overcome with an urge to pray for the conversion of terrorists was the day that the rebels were left with an evangelistic movie and the means
to watch it.
Story number two takes place a year or two later. Dan was
traveling and I had been alone for many days with my two small children. I was
very sick at the time with undiagnosed and untreated Lyme disease. I tell you
this to explain why I was so incredibly exhausted that I went to bed at 8:00. I
got into bed at 8:00 anyway, but didn’t feel free to go to sleep. Instead, I
felt strongly that God was telling me to pray for the capture of terrorist
leaders. I prayed for about half an hour until the burden lifted and I felt that
I had been released from the task. In the next day’s newspaper there was a
story about a terrorist leader who had been captured at 8:30.
I’m sharing these stories to remind myself, and maybe you in
the process, that we’re not powerless in the face of evil. God calls us to participate
with him in healing the world, and I believe we grieve him when we fail to
respond. Prayer is a powerful weapon against darkness, and one that all of us,
even those of us who are ill and homebound, can use. Lord, please forgive me
for letting it sit unused so often. I’m
also sharing these stories because a friend asked whether we should pray for
the conversion of terrorists or their capture. My experiences lead me to believe that it’s not an either/or
proposition.
There’s been some backlash recently against politicians who’ve
expressed that their thoughts and prayers are with those affected by violence. It’s
true that the phrase “my prayers are with you” can sometimes sound dismissive
when we believe there’s other action that could be taken. I feel that way
whenever someone wearing synthetic perfume tells me that they’ll pray for my
chemical illness. It’s also true that expressing the intention to pray doesn’t
equal actually praying. Actually praying, however, is something not to be taken
lightly.
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