yielding in prayer yields fruit

eight days ago, we set up our first prayer room!

we propped an E-Z Up shelter in the parking lot of a church down the street during their 5th annual fun fair which is hosted in partnership with our neighborhood association and elementary school staff. this church has a great ministry to the neighborhood called SHINE Ministries, where i have volunteered in the past. just a couple of weeks back, the director of SHINE was speaking with kenn about life & work and invited us to set up a table at the fair. i honestly don't know what he was imagining we'd want to add to the event and when kenn told me of the invite it was almost in passing. for a brief moment i thought it was simply a nice gesture. then a second thought overcame me. WHOA. that's a big deal. and immediately followed: we should have a prayer tent! i think i surprised both of us.

though kenn and i are planning with others to hold a season of nonstop prayer this fall, we did not foresee something of this sort and this soon on our street! kenn went to the director with the idea, the director went to someone overseeing the fair, and the prayer room was approved! there wasn't much time to put it together, but complete peace filled me as i drew plans for how it would look and what elements would be appropriate to include. getting to design such a sacred space, pouring prayer over the details and envisioning what God could be doing, was absolutely fulfilling.

the day of the fair started with two teen boys helping set up the tent. both of them were campers of mine the first year i was a counselor with SHINE. now they're a regular part of the life at that church. my mom joined us, plus two friends from our old church. a youth pastor friend from another church in town (who also happens to be my distant relative) stayed all afternoon to help run the tent. i grew up with him and his sister, and his mother has taught for years at this same neighborhood school, deeply committed to the kids and their families. it's a wild blessing to be doing God's work together today!

at the fair, every child registers for the activities and a card with a list of the stations is given to each. their cards get punched after visiting each one. when a card's complete, a student receives a new book bag and other gifts like school supplies, a New Testament Bible, and a ticket for a free cone from the ice cream truck. at first, people were a bit hesitant to stop by the prayer room. coming together so last minute, it wasn't an official item listed on their cards, and the tent was a bit removed from the other tables. however, once a certain number of people realized what the tent was all about, a flow of visitors came.

in front of the prayer room was a box where anyone could leave prayer requests. only a handful of people shied away from doing so, with most eager to share their burdens or words of thanks. several folks, including volunteers with the fair, made it a point to thank us for having a prayer room, to show their approval of "such a great idea". a few personal stories we heard in more detail. one woman asked for prayer on the spot. we spent time with a man whose newborn son has been fighting for his life. many people we personally know from our street participated. and the kids at the fair loved the space inside the tent. they wrote out prayers and drew pictures of them, some giving praise to Jesus or thanks for what they have. parents rested there while their children colored and hung their work along the perimeter of the room. those prayers and the ones left in our box came to number over 100.

it would take a lot more time to describe everything we saw that day, but one of the most significant moments for me came later that evening. there's a large crew of kids - all from the same extended family - that is always next door and with whom we've gotten pretty close. some of them were outside that evening and one of the little girls, whom i'll call M, came to ask me what we we'd be doing with the box of prayers. i told her a group of us would be praying over them and she asked to help. she wanted me to bring out the box so we could pray for all of them together! though i felt unsure of letting her read the cards since some were shared in confidence and she might recognize who had written others, i knew i still could not squelch her desire.

a few other little girls were playing with my hair as i sat on the porch, and M pulled up a chair in front of me. she continued to ask to pray and i finally decided to not bring out the box but suggested that we still could pray. there were a couple of interruptions, including a phone call with a prayer request, until at last i said, "let's pray." another, even younger girl had pulled up a chair next to M, so that we formed a tight circle there on the porch. she asked to pray first, and with two other girls listening in, the two who were seated put out their hands to hold mine and bowed their heads. eyes closed, each took a turn to mouth silent prayers. after their amens, i asked if i could pray aloud and then brought to God the beautiful day we'd just had. i thanked him for the fair and for friendship. i prayed for our neighborhood, for the phone call request and for the girl's uncle who's awaiting a lung transplant. then an older girl walked up and sat on the window sill next to me. we grabbed her hands and i thanked God for her, too. as i closed our prayer, another cousin came to tell them it was time to go inside and they skipped away.

i am still aflutter inside. what a privilege to sit on my porch as i've done countless times before, this time praying with these dear little ones! i don't know what else is in store, but my heart is ready. God is doing many beautiful things in this place, and i am so grateful we're a part of it all!

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UPDATE Nov 2013:

Many months after we'd prayed for the uncle of M and the family had moved from our block, our phone rang.  It was M's uncle, calling from the hospital, having just received a double lung transplant!  His doctors and the other hospital staff were in awe at his body's response and the quick progress in the few short days after surgery.  Then he said he knew he HAD to call us because WE HAD BEEN PRAYING FOR HIM all along!  Even now, every time we see him he attests to the fact that he was given another chance at life.

UPDATE Apr 2014:

These days M and others from the story above have made their home at the church where we held the prayer tent.  They've been deeply involved in SHINE and are growing into beautiful young women.  Please pray that their hearts would be forever captured by Jesus and their faith, too, would yield boundless fruit in this community!  Also, the fellowship we've now called home for over a year is the same one from which our helpers/relatives came to support us at the tent in 2010.  I love life's twists and turns.

what grates on you?

sand is in my bed
it was too late
to bathe little girl
when we were back from the boardwalk

night's sleep broken
it is summer
and it's maybe the fortieth
time because of coughs
and stuffed noses inside
or laughing singing screaming out

tonight's been a bit
of it all
even the cops showed
then a lull came over
maybe prayer was answered
so i climbed back in

with sand in my bed
two hours later
little girl whimpers
and the voices are back by my window

tonight is one of those nights. it's nearly 5 a.m. and i've been awake for a couple hours, even though i actually went to bed early. summer is wild on our block, any time of day or night. in fact, sometimes the same people who wake me at two are still awake when i'm watering the flowers at seven. but this is how i came to write another poem.

i got out my journal to think through my feelings about the rudeness that woke me. that wasn't my first reaction, though. my first was to go downstairs to see who and where they were. i turned on my awfully bright porch light but it didn't phase them. after a bit they did move on, i wrote a bit, the police stopped by, and it got quieter. i went back to bed only to have a poem pop in my head!

i do identify with the poet, naomi shihab nye:

"the things that cause you friction are the things from which you might make art."

can you relate?

flying

our baby girl, who is about to turn two, was born with skew foot. it's not as common or severe as club foot, but as a tiny infant acacia wore full-leg casts and then moved to wearing a brace around the clock. at a year old the brace was only worn in daytime, then we were rid of it altogether this past winter. her skew foot was healed in both feet!

you'd never know acacia had any "abnormality" confining her to some artificial support. she was born sunny. and that sweet disposition has been God's gracious gift to me (and the world!) since her birth. she draws people to her no matter where she goes. i cannot tell you how many have whispered, "she's my favorite," as in secret. and physically? the girl lets nothing stop her. she thought she could just roll off my lap from a chair to the floor before she could even sit up! and how does she walk? running is her MO. her speedy pitter-patter is absolutely adorable to see.

knowing all of this about acacia, i was still concerned about getting her new shoe inserts. her specialist recently prescribed them after seeing how severe her ankles pronate and how flat her feet are. it's been so long since she had to wear a brace, i thought, what if they bother her, hurt her little feet? she might fight us to not wear them. what if it slows her down?

rhys, acacia and i picked them up last monday. the braces were tried on and a few adjustments were made, then we put an extra-big pair of crocs over them. our appointment was over, so we headed outside. there's a great playground right in front of the hospital. we always spend some time there before driving back home. as i walked the kids through that gate, their excitement was spilling out. don't you know, my little girl let go of me and RAN to the swings!? she galloped like a filly. she climbed steps like a big kid. she slid down slides over and over. one time, she did that little trick where you swing by your hands on the bar across the top of the slide before dropping yourself to slip away. she's never done that!

i kept shaking my head in awe, wondering momentarily how strange my grin might look to the other people there. i didn't care, joy was bubbling over. it was as if acacia had new strength in those shoes! and then, rhys began jumping off steps pretending he was superman, flying. guess who copied. acacia started FLYING. boy, did the tears come then and i recalled isaiah 40:31

"...they will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."

those whose hope is in the Lord.

acacia was born with a resolve and it's only fitting. her name means guileless. that's a childlike innocence. it is trusting.

i really needed to taste the truth that morning. not only with regard to acacia's feet. i needed the truth about hoping in God alone. trusting him as his child, in a freedom that knows it'll all be taken care of by my Dad. playing my days away as he deals with the big stuff. and to think, when i do so he delights to watch me just like i watch her. when my hope takes me to flight, makes me daring, gets me giggling, he beams in his glory. which just so happens to be my baby's other name.

prayer and a life sentence

this week, a young man was sentenced to 68 years in prison. four years ago, he took another man's life. now he'll likely spend the rest of his locked up. he murdered a man from our town, one who's brother is an acquaintance of ours, a committed community leader and a pastor of a nearby church.

i read the story online, watched a video taken at the sentencing, and began to pray. first for his fianceé and the ones closest to him. for our pastor friend and all the "victims" of this crime. even for others involved in the proceedings. finally, i looked at the face of this convicted man (barely a man, really) and then was my spirit overwhelmed. i pondered what a life he faces, the life he ultimately chose, and i could not help but weep for him. within seconds, i was wishing i could stand beside him, a friend ready to walk with him, no matter his demeanor, conscience or plea.

the more common reactions from any one of us could likely be a shrugging off of such tragedy as all-too-common, a ranting of opinions on how the case was handled, or maybe a shaking of heads in prideful pity thinking we could never be so evil. perhaps we're burdened for the ones who lost their loved one in this dreadful way. or God forgive us, we may even vengefully delight in this young man's demise.

i believe what happened in me had much to do with prayer. i brought my thoughts and feelings into conversation with God and my mourning came, my deepest compassion flowed for the criminal. prayer can do this. not like magic. prayer isn't a game or trick or formula for getting our wishes. when we truly practice prayer, we let ourselves receive God's dreams and understand his passions, even while bringing ourselves before him. choosing to pray this way is yielding, it's placing ourselves at God's mercy. full of mercy that he is, we find that mercy flowing for us. and one day, it overflows to others.

if you're feeling the need for kindness or really want a different heart, try more prayer. give a little more time and grant the Spirit a little more space. into the most empty (emptied) places, the most mercy will flow.

have mercy on our souls.

a poem instead

i have wanted to capture with words some of what we experienced in northfield. nothing has come to me yet. this is where writing can be both frustrating and fun, predictably unpredictable.
thanks to my mom, however, tonight was full of the subject of writing because we watched Inkheart (i, for the first time) and followed it with readings from silverstein's Falling Up.

by the time i got home it was past midnight and i had drunk tea with caffeine. i knew if i went to bed i'd be back out in no time, because the bug was itching me to write. i came to the computer to catch up on correspondence first, and that's where inspiration came. not regarding our fabulous 10 days with the 24-7 prayer family, it's a poem more about days long ago, to some extent. here i credit shel's poetic style and, undoubtedly, the oh-so-lovely randomness of a friend. thanks, bailey.

here's my latest, at this latest hour.

omnibus poem

my school was so special
it drew from all over
families who treasured
a place of high caliber
that is, a place with
morale where a dad or a
mom could be sure
that their daughter
or son was safe from
the lure of lewd words
and a bully as pal
the grip of worldly teachings
and some new-fangled preaching

but i'll save that subject
for another debate
let's talk about how i
became second-rate
see, my school had buses
don't know how few or
more, just know that i
rarely stepped foot in their doors
my house it was tiny
(donned tarpaper forever!)
for years we hardly had
two coins to rub together
but it wasn't this that
caused my dissension
it was that my house sat
outside jurisdiction

doomed to carpool
every day, every year
every grade i attended -
all thirteen, i do fear -
this put me in a class
of a different kind
i wasn't a "bussy"
the elite in my mind
elite because everyone
else got to ride on
the bus that was greener
than on the carside
see what my school taught
so special they say
it drove me to envy
and label, not pray
not memorize stories of
saints long ago
just painted a picture
of the world we all know
where this one is in
that one is out
those have no value
these have the clout
oh! how did i get here
debating again
what was good or was bad
about my institution
i guess it goes back
to the one thing i've
found - no matter where
you are schooled or in
what home you dwell
or who your friends are
come heaven or hell -
everyone's got certain
voices within and particular
ways we are wound

i thank Goodness my school
didn't break me or make
me, the car didn't kill me
the bus doesn't wield me
there is much more hidden
deeply inside that's to
credit for both
my purity and pride
- c. l. atkinson