When I am weak, then I am strong

Yesterday's church service was one of those you don't easily forget. It started out totally normal. My family led worship. I played my flute...my heart wasn't there. I wasn't thinking about the words or praising God. I was just trying to figure out how to get my flute in tune with the piano. After that a lady sang a song I really like and then Mike talked about our upcoming missions conference. Then we had our prayer time. There were a few requests from the congregation...nothing too major. We prayed, and then it was time for offering. No one went up to play piano or anything. But the ushers came up and started passing the offering plates. A certain lady's name was down on the bulletin to play offeratory...she came forward with tears in her eyes, picked up the mic, and explained that it was a misprint. She wasn't told to play this Sunday. But it was misprinted for a reason. She said sometimes people sit through prayer time and they know they should say something, but sometimes the most important requests don't come out......That woman stepped up on the platform, still talking, with tears in her eyes, and admitted that her marriage needs prayer. She took off her jacket that she had kept on, not wanting to stay after the service, not being comfortable there....and she knelt down and prayed that she would give her life 100% to God. To an outsider it might seem this was some sort of drama to put herself in the spotlight, but she said, and I believe, that this was one of the hardest things she would ever do. This was what she had to do to take of the mask that said everything was all right, and with the church's help, to save her marriage. Two other women came up, put their hands on her shoulders, and also prayed. Eventually she sat down. But up came a man, Ed, and thanked her for her boldness, and said that this is what the church is for. He invited anyone else who had a burden to come forward because we wouldn't judge them. This would bring healing. And then he sat down. I watched the pastor as he just sat there a little longer than I expected. How do you preach after that? He turned his mic on and said, "I'm reluctant to get up because I feel like someone else is being called to come forward. Finally he got up and set down his bible on the platform. He said, "I didn't get rid of the book; I got rid of the sermon notes." He said he had planned to preach about hypocrisy--putting on an act, wearing masks-- but he still felt there were people in this church who needed to come forward and take off the masks they had been wearing. He sat down and said he would wait to hear what God told him to do next.
A moment later, a lady I didn't remember seeing before came forward and confessed something and asked for prayer. Then another lady who had been in our church for many years come forward and explained she had been attacked with doubts and needed prayer that her faith would stand firm. Another woman came and admitted a fear she had been hiding, a man confessed and apologized for the ways he had talked to and treated certain people. A woman admitted she had bought into the lie that Christians need to look like they're all together. She admitted that she was really suffering and needed help and prayers. One after another people came forward in tears, completely broken, and were freed from their chains. Others came forward as they spoke just to comfort them, pray for them, or offer advice or encouragement. Healing took place in our church.
Eventually the pastor felt it was time to stand up and close, but he invited anyone else who wanted to take off a mask or get rid of a burden to come forward after the close and anyone who felt led to pray with them to come forward to do so. And the pastor explained that a couple days ago he had handed in an outline of the sermon notes just so something could be put in the bulletin. He really hadn't known what he was going to say, so he just hoped (I assume he prayed) that God would give him the right words. Well, God certainly worked out the whole situation.
As our pastor prayed in closing he said something about how maybe this is the type of thing that starts a revival. We don't know, but we hope that's the case. I dohn't think much about the possibility of a revival....I'm not sure why...Is it that I don't hav the faith to believe it's possible? But as I drove my sister home she said she thought this would begin revival. That got me thinking.

Is this what the church needs? To just become real? We wear so many masks. There is no way the church will grow when we can't even be real. No one likes hypocrites. No one who is a different person on Sunday than the rest of the week will do much good for God. Is this what we need most? When people take off their masks and become real, even in their hurt, guilt, and confusion, then we can help each other, and in our weakness we can show Christ's strength. God prefers to use the broken and the weak, the ones that come to the realization that they are nothing without him, because it's through them that he can show how strong and awesome he is. I don't know if that will bring revival; I can hope. I know, for me, I want to be real with everyone. No more wearing masks around my church or the nonchristians around me. The masks I sometimes wear say I have an awesome relationship with God and I have it all together. Actually, I have a lot of doubts and it's hard for me to really pray. Think about the masks you might wear. Drop your burdens and Jesus' feet. And, with me, get rid of the attitude that you can do things yourself or that you deserve glory for anything. Realize you're nothing without God, and praise him for who he is.

One of the women who went forward yesterday put a Bible story in a new light for me. The Israelites had just been delivered from the Egyptians. God had answered their prayer and had led them out of Egypt. Deliverance! But then they found themselves at the Red Sea with no where to go, and behind them came the Egyptians in their chariots. At this point the only thing they could do was stand there, looking up to God. And that's exactly the point he wants people at, because that's when he has the chance to show his power by parting the waters. When they prayed to him he said, "The LORD will fight for you. You need only to be still." He parted the Red Sea so the Israelites could cross, and when their enemies came after them, the water closed in on them. This event gave glory to God because not only did the Israelites come to trust him, but the Egyptians also saw his power.
This story speaks a lot to me. It reminds me or a situation I was in a while back where I had been sure that God had led me to this place, but it just didn't feel right. I began to doubt it and doubt that he would bring me through it. But I cried out to him and he did bring me through it. He showed me that it was all a part of his plan.
This story also reinforces that lesson I keep coming back to: when you feel inadequate and weak and unworthy and incapable, that's when God can use you most. When you are weak, then you are strong. Today I read in Isaiah that God despises human greatness. I hadn't thought of it that way before. God doesn't need us to have it all together. He hates when we think we are great by our own doing. Sure he wants greatness for us; he tells us to do our best. But more importantly, he wants the glory for it. So it is better to be a beggar on the streets, preaching atop a cardboard box than to be a millionaire who credits his success to himself. God wants us to come to a place where wh realize we are nothing without him. That is where his glory will shine through.

prayer

A friend asked me "What do you feel when you pray?" I couldn't really answer right then...but after thinking about it I realize that my prayers usually feel like one-sided conversations or, even worse, just nothing, nothing more than some religious ritual. Yes, Sometimes I talk to God and know he's listening and believe he will answer. Sometimes I even know what he's telling me, even without him actually speaking. But other times I pray and ask him to speak to me; I want him to answer, but I just can't hear him. Or I pray about what's on my mind and completely forget to listen to what he wants me to hear. Or I just say words, not even really realizing that I'm talking to my Creator. And other times I start out praying right, but I wander off into other thoughts until I'm in my own little world, not even thinking about God, much less talking to him. This is not good. Why is it so hard to stay focused the One who deserves our utmost reverence? How do I so easily forget the profound truth that I can actually talk to God, and he listens?

Attitude is so important. I need to remember that Christianity is a relationship, not a religion. Actions are worthless if the heart doesn't back them up. So praying without really meaning it is pointless and meaningless. And it's a two-way relationship so it should be a two-sided conversation. I need to balance my prayers to give thanks, offer requests, and listen. But it's hard to have a conversation with someone you can't see or hear. It's so hard to hear him. Lately, especially, I've had so many questions for him. I wish so badly I could just talk to him face to face or hear his voice and know exactly what he wants for me. But I never hear him. I try so hard to hear him sometimes, and I just don't.

It's really hard when I can't hear him. At times like this I'm supposed to trust. But what about when you don't even know what to trust? What about when you don't know which way to go and he's not telling you? I guess then you just have to trust that he'll show you at the right time. But it's hard. How can I really know what is truth and what his will for me is if he won't speak to me?

Last night I was thinking about all these things and starting to get discouraged. But I was reminded of the book of Job that I had just finished reading. Job had a lot of questions for God too. He cried out to God. He longed to just talk to him face to face and know why God would allow him, a righteous man, to suffer so terribly. Finally God spoke to him. He didn't answer Job's questions, but instead threw some questions at Job. Were you there when the world was made? Do you understand how everything I created works? Have you seen the amazing things I've done? He speaks to Job for three chapters. Every time I read this part of the book, I finish and think, wait, isn't there more? Isn't God going to tell Job that he wasn't punishing him, but was testing him? Isn't he going to tell about how Satan asked God to allow this suffering? But no. God didn't have to tell Job that. He doesn't have to give an explanation for his actions. He's God. That should be enough. If we can't understand everything he created, how can we expect to understand God or why he does what he does? And why should we think that we know what God should and shouldn't do? It should be enough just to realize that he's God and accept what he does.