GC Worship Talk
In case anyone is interested, this is the worship talk I gave this morning. It went pretty well, but it's kind of long for a blog. Oh well. :)
This morning, I just wanted to share a personal testimony on prayer. I definitely don’t consider myself an expert on the subject, and to be honest, I am a little suspicious of anyone who thinks they ARE an expert. Because I think prayer is something like an art or a science or a relationship—always growing and changing with our experience with God and life.
I remember looking out the window into the darkness as the plane descended, and watching the few lights of the island of Yap, Micronesia growing brighter. My heart beat faster, my palms were sweaty, and I felt a little nauseous. I went back to reading some Bible promises I’d become very familiar with over the last few days journey. It wasn’t my first trip to Yap, or even my second. I had been a little nervous on those trips, but never had felt the fear that I felt this time. Maybe because this time, I was keenly aware that I was entering a spiritual battlefield.
Spiritual battles are actually nothing new to this little mission school in Yap. I’m sure there have been many since it began in the late 80s, but one of the heaviest attacks was in 2009, when they lost a student missionary named Kirsten Wolcott. It was then that I first felt God calling me to the battlefield of Yap, to finish the school year with the 2nd graders who had lost their teacher. Though that year ended smoothly by God’s grace, there have been other battles for the school and missionaries to face since then.
When I decided to return for the 2011-2012 school year as the Registrar, I was expecting things to be different and more challenging, but I was not expecting an all-out war-zone. We were short-staffed and tired to begin with, and then one of our SMs got appendicitis, which later became a long ordeal of fighting infection until she was sent home to recover. I was also sent off-island at the same time, and eventually went home for a few months to recover from dengue fever. It was hard to be put on the sidelines, but I prayed and did what I could to encourage my friends who were still holding down the Yap fort.
So it was now January 2012, after my few months recovering at home, and I was returning to Yap again. I was convinced that God was not finished with me yet. The calling was still there, the money was provided, and yet I couldn’t shake the fear. On that long plane ride back to Yap, I remember having many talks with God about it, and in the end, sensing His answer: that He would fight my battles for me. And that was enough to know as I stepped out of the plane, back into the warm, humid air to face whatever was ahead.
But it was also exciting to be back. I had missed all my missionary friends, and especially my former students who had all been praying for me and sending me get-well cards. I enjoyed catching up with the SMs and hearing all the stories of everything I’d missed. The other teacher who had left to recover was also able to return, so we started planning everything we wanted to do this semester to redeem our time away.
But after a few days, I started to feel like I had missed so much that I wasn’t really sure what my role was any more. Yes, I had my Registrar’s position back, but they had been able to cover so well while I was away, I started to wonder if I was really needed. Why did God bring me back if they could have done fine without me? I was thinking about this and feeling discouraged a few days after I had returned. I remember sitting in my small, stifling office and asking God to show me what He really wanted me to do with this time in Yap. What would make my time there most valuable? And I distinctly felt God answer quietly but firmly: “Pray. I want you to pray.” I thought that sounded a little too easy, but I thought, well, if that’s all you want, I can do that.
About 45 minutes later, after school was out, I walked outside to where all the kids were waiting for their busses, and a few teachers were supervising. I needed to talk with one of the teachers about some grades, since report cards were coming out in a few days. After talking with the teacher, I started back toward the office, and stepped down off a small retaining wall onto the dirt parking lot. But I wasn’t watching where I was going, and my foot landed on a firm plastic bottle. Instead of the bottle crushing under my foot, it rolled to the side, taking my foot with it.
At first I thought I had just landed wrong and was a bit embarrassed, but soon felt a lot of pain and when I pulled back my long skirt to show the other teacher which foot I had injured, everyone gasped. It was definitely turned the wrong direction. Some of the students ran and got another teacher who was a nurse, and they helped me lay down. Most things were kind of a blur at that point, except that I remember students and teachers crowding around, some asking if it hurt or giving me words of sympathy, as others rushed around getting ice and coconut oil, and arranging transportation to the hospital…
It was just one of those times where I realized I really had no control over the situation. If the local island lady sitting near by wanted to grab my foot and try to straighten it local-style, I knew I couldn’t have stopped her. I really had no idea how they would handle it at the hospital either, since I’d already had enough experience there to lose some confidence in their abilities, even if they did have good intentions.
And as all these thoughts were flooding my mind, I finally looked up and started watching the clouds drift overhead and praying. I told God that I didn’t know what He was doing, but I would trust Him with whatever was ahead. I just prayed that whatever WAS ahead, that He would not leave me, because I knew right then how much I needed Him. Right then, God filled my heart with the most amazing peace I had ever experienced. It was like He was saying to me that the greater the desperation, the more of His power and love and presence was available. Even as I look back, it has given me courage that no matter what challenges may come, I know that Jesus will meet me there.
The next few months were full of x-rays and casts and crutches, and a whole month off-island getting surgery in Hawaii and recovering. Needless to say, it slowed me WAY down. But I remembered that God had told me what He wanted me to do there: to pray. And so that’s what I did. It gave me a lot of comfort at first just because I was so frustrated that I was actually there to be a missionary, and yet I felt like everyone was having to help me way more than I could help them. So prayer became my only way to feel productive in the mission field. But now I wonder if that was perhaps more productive than any other way I could have used my time. I prayed for the spiritual battles that I saw going on every day—in the lives of students and our student missionaries and our leadership. I prayed for unity, healing of all kinds, and for the Holy Spirit to work in hearts in a way that human words or actions never could. And I saw God answer in incredible ways that helped me feel like it was even worth the pain and frustration of a broken foot. Interestingly, it seemed that the less mobile I was, the more I prayed and entrusted these things to God. But as I slowly regained my mobility, I became less patient and often went back to trying to fix things on my own more.
I was also able to experience what it was like to have people pray for me. It was humbling and empowering. Some of the most memorable prayers were from the students I loved so much who I had taught in 2nd grade. A few of them had seen the accident, and the next day were begging their 4th grade teacher to let them come visit me at my apartment. It was against the school rules so she could not allow it, but instead she had them write me notes, which she delivered to me later that afternoon. One of my favorites was from a girl named Jasmine. Here is what she wrote:
“Dear Ms. Andrea: I miss you so much. I wish you could walk again so we could play with you. I pray that God will touch you and you may walk. Remember God and all of us love you. And even cares for you. That’s why He made Jesus to die for our sins. I will pray for you. If your scared of the dark, don’t worry, God’s with you. From: Jasmine”
These were the times that reminded me why we were on this battlefield, and kept me focused in my prayers for God’s work there.
My injury and recovery time in Yap was probably the greatest hands-on experience I’ve ever had with prayer, and though it was one of the most challenging times of my life, I can honestly say it was worth it all in helping me learn and grow. I hope you don’t mind me sharing just a few of the lessons I learned about prayer during that time:
First, I learned that more battles are won on our knees than in our own strength.
I learned that the best way to change a person’s heart or mind isn’t usually to talk TO them—but to talk to Jesus ABOUT them.
I learned the amazing power of praying WITH people in breaking down walls and fighting discouragement.
I learned that I can pray with more confidence when I pause long enough to remember WHO God really is.
I learned that conversations with God are the MOST valuable when I feel my weakness and inadequacy.
I learned that prayer is messy. It’s not something that can be reduced to a formula or a way of getting God to do what you want. It’s about being real with God, and sometimes being disappointed. It’s about having the courage to ask for things that seem impossible. It’s about trusting when God doesn’t answer the way you think He should. It’s about waiting. And it’s about being surprised and amazed at how God answers in ways you could not have imagined.
But most of all, my time in Yap taught me that prayer is a lot more about God than it is about me. It’s about calling out to Him in our weakness to invite Him to show off His power so that others will know how amazing He is.
I’d like to close with one of my favorite verses during my time in Yap. It is found in Romans 8:35 and 37–
“Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted or are hungry or cold or in danger or threatened with death?...No, despite all these things, OVERWHELMING VICTORY is ours THROUGH CHRIST, who loved us.”
May each of us find that victory in Christ and His love in our own journeys and conversations with God.
This morning, I just wanted to share a personal testimony on prayer. I definitely don’t consider myself an expert on the subject, and to be honest, I am a little suspicious of anyone who thinks they ARE an expert. Because I think prayer is something like an art or a science or a relationship—always growing and changing with our experience with God and life.
I remember looking out the window into the darkness as the plane descended, and watching the few lights of the island of Yap, Micronesia growing brighter. My heart beat faster, my palms were sweaty, and I felt a little nauseous. I went back to reading some Bible promises I’d become very familiar with over the last few days journey. It wasn’t my first trip to Yap, or even my second. I had been a little nervous on those trips, but never had felt the fear that I felt this time. Maybe because this time, I was keenly aware that I was entering a spiritual battlefield.
Spiritual battles are actually nothing new to this little mission school in Yap. I’m sure there have been many since it began in the late 80s, but one of the heaviest attacks was in 2009, when they lost a student missionary named Kirsten Wolcott. It was then that I first felt God calling me to the battlefield of Yap, to finish the school year with the 2nd graders who had lost their teacher. Though that year ended smoothly by God’s grace, there have been other battles for the school and missionaries to face since then.
When I decided to return for the 2011-2012 school year as the Registrar, I was expecting things to be different and more challenging, but I was not expecting an all-out war-zone. We were short-staffed and tired to begin with, and then one of our SMs got appendicitis, which later became a long ordeal of fighting infection until she was sent home to recover. I was also sent off-island at the same time, and eventually went home for a few months to recover from dengue fever. It was hard to be put on the sidelines, but I prayed and did what I could to encourage my friends who were still holding down the Yap fort.
So it was now January 2012, after my few months recovering at home, and I was returning to Yap again. I was convinced that God was not finished with me yet. The calling was still there, the money was provided, and yet I couldn’t shake the fear. On that long plane ride back to Yap, I remember having many talks with God about it, and in the end, sensing His answer: that He would fight my battles for me. And that was enough to know as I stepped out of the plane, back into the warm, humid air to face whatever was ahead.
But it was also exciting to be back. I had missed all my missionary friends, and especially my former students who had all been praying for me and sending me get-well cards. I enjoyed catching up with the SMs and hearing all the stories of everything I’d missed. The other teacher who had left to recover was also able to return, so we started planning everything we wanted to do this semester to redeem our time away.
But after a few days, I started to feel like I had missed so much that I wasn’t really sure what my role was any more. Yes, I had my Registrar’s position back, but they had been able to cover so well while I was away, I started to wonder if I was really needed. Why did God bring me back if they could have done fine without me? I was thinking about this and feeling discouraged a few days after I had returned. I remember sitting in my small, stifling office and asking God to show me what He really wanted me to do with this time in Yap. What would make my time there most valuable? And I distinctly felt God answer quietly but firmly: “Pray. I want you to pray.” I thought that sounded a little too easy, but I thought, well, if that’s all you want, I can do that.
About 45 minutes later, after school was out, I walked outside to where all the kids were waiting for their busses, and a few teachers were supervising. I needed to talk with one of the teachers about some grades, since report cards were coming out in a few days. After talking with the teacher, I started back toward the office, and stepped down off a small retaining wall onto the dirt parking lot. But I wasn’t watching where I was going, and my foot landed on a firm plastic bottle. Instead of the bottle crushing under my foot, it rolled to the side, taking my foot with it.
At first I thought I had just landed wrong and was a bit embarrassed, but soon felt a lot of pain and when I pulled back my long skirt to show the other teacher which foot I had injured, everyone gasped. It was definitely turned the wrong direction. Some of the students ran and got another teacher who was a nurse, and they helped me lay down. Most things were kind of a blur at that point, except that I remember students and teachers crowding around, some asking if it hurt or giving me words of sympathy, as others rushed around getting ice and coconut oil, and arranging transportation to the hospital…
It was just one of those times where I realized I really had no control over the situation. If the local island lady sitting near by wanted to grab my foot and try to straighten it local-style, I knew I couldn’t have stopped her. I really had no idea how they would handle it at the hospital either, since I’d already had enough experience there to lose some confidence in their abilities, even if they did have good intentions.
And as all these thoughts were flooding my mind, I finally looked up and started watching the clouds drift overhead and praying. I told God that I didn’t know what He was doing, but I would trust Him with whatever was ahead. I just prayed that whatever WAS ahead, that He would not leave me, because I knew right then how much I needed Him. Right then, God filled my heart with the most amazing peace I had ever experienced. It was like He was saying to me that the greater the desperation, the more of His power and love and presence was available. Even as I look back, it has given me courage that no matter what challenges may come, I know that Jesus will meet me there.
The next few months were full of x-rays and casts and crutches, and a whole month off-island getting surgery in Hawaii and recovering. Needless to say, it slowed me WAY down. But I remembered that God had told me what He wanted me to do there: to pray. And so that’s what I did. It gave me a lot of comfort at first just because I was so frustrated that I was actually there to be a missionary, and yet I felt like everyone was having to help me way more than I could help them. So prayer became my only way to feel productive in the mission field. But now I wonder if that was perhaps more productive than any other way I could have used my time. I prayed for the spiritual battles that I saw going on every day—in the lives of students and our student missionaries and our leadership. I prayed for unity, healing of all kinds, and for the Holy Spirit to work in hearts in a way that human words or actions never could. And I saw God answer in incredible ways that helped me feel like it was even worth the pain and frustration of a broken foot. Interestingly, it seemed that the less mobile I was, the more I prayed and entrusted these things to God. But as I slowly regained my mobility, I became less patient and often went back to trying to fix things on my own more.
I was also able to experience what it was like to have people pray for me. It was humbling and empowering. Some of the most memorable prayers were from the students I loved so much who I had taught in 2nd grade. A few of them had seen the accident, and the next day were begging their 4th grade teacher to let them come visit me at my apartment. It was against the school rules so she could not allow it, but instead she had them write me notes, which she delivered to me later that afternoon. One of my favorites was from a girl named Jasmine. Here is what she wrote:
“Dear Ms. Andrea: I miss you so much. I wish you could walk again so we could play with you. I pray that God will touch you and you may walk. Remember God and all of us love you. And even cares for you. That’s why He made Jesus to die for our sins. I will pray for you. If your scared of the dark, don’t worry, God’s with you. From: Jasmine”
These were the times that reminded me why we were on this battlefield, and kept me focused in my prayers for God’s work there.
My injury and recovery time in Yap was probably the greatest hands-on experience I’ve ever had with prayer, and though it was one of the most challenging times of my life, I can honestly say it was worth it all in helping me learn and grow. I hope you don’t mind me sharing just a few of the lessons I learned about prayer during that time:
First, I learned that more battles are won on our knees than in our own strength.
I learned that the best way to change a person’s heart or mind isn’t usually to talk TO them—but to talk to Jesus ABOUT them.
I learned the amazing power of praying WITH people in breaking down walls and fighting discouragement.
I learned that I can pray with more confidence when I pause long enough to remember WHO God really is.
I learned that conversations with God are the MOST valuable when I feel my weakness and inadequacy.
I learned that prayer is messy. It’s not something that can be reduced to a formula or a way of getting God to do what you want. It’s about being real with God, and sometimes being disappointed. It’s about having the courage to ask for things that seem impossible. It’s about trusting when God doesn’t answer the way you think He should. It’s about waiting. And it’s about being surprised and amazed at how God answers in ways you could not have imagined.
But most of all, my time in Yap taught me that prayer is a lot more about God than it is about me. It’s about calling out to Him in our weakness to invite Him to show off His power so that others will know how amazing He is.
I’d like to close with one of my favorite verses during my time in Yap. It is found in Romans 8:35 and 37–
“Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted or are hungry or cold or in danger or threatened with death?...No, despite all these things, OVERWHELMING VICTORY is ours THROUGH CHRIST, who loved us.”
May each of us find that victory in Christ and His love in our own journeys and conversations with God.
Thanks for being willing to share your journey. Thinking on this makes me wonder if God's biggest reason for allowing out-of-the-ordinary things happen, is to create opportunities for us to spend time with Him. How I wish it was just second nature for us to stay connected. But it's intentional. Though our part isn't much, desire it and seek it, and He even supplies the wherewithall for that.
ReplyDeleteWell said Andrea. Thanks for sharing your testimony. Will be praying for you as you tape it for the Hope Channel.
ReplyDeleteI loved this, Andrea. Very helpful reflection on the "usefulness" of prayer.
ReplyDeleteIt helps me know more about what you were going through in Yap, too!