Reaching for the Rock

My faith is not practical. It is theoretical.

My faith is a bit like my Spanish. Studied in cushioned pews, explored in classrooms, repeated in small portions in controlled environments.

Francis Chan has said that we should live our lives in such a way that if God did not intervene with miracles, everything would collapse about us (my paraphrase). I have lived my life in such a way that if God would like to, he is welcome to come add a brick to the top of my secure little wall.

And now, like my Spanish, I have entered an environment where I am suddenly confronted with people whose faith is immensely, intensely practical. Like my lungs, I am suddenly confronted with the need for much, much more hemoglobin. It's terrifying, overwhelming, and exhilarating, as Truth usually is.

I think that God is calling me to trust Him. That word tastes sweeter and richer and deeper in my mouth than it ever has before. I wrote in my journal before I left for Bolivia that I felt like for the past couple years of my life, I've gotten to a certain place in my walk with the Lord, fallen back a ways, come back, fallen away again, etc, but never gone beyond that point. He's calling me to put a foot out across that line and keep walking. At this point, I feel like I'm pointing my toe in the dark, knowing the ground will be there, but irrationally afraid that it won't be. And maybe it'll be a little, or a lot, further down than I think it is. But it's there. The Rock is there.

Tomorrow at 8 am I get on a little military plane and head for Potosi, Bolivia where I'll spend the next month in a clinic. I know that I'm going to see pain that I've never encountered, and hurt that seems impossible to fix, but as my dad said earlier today, I'm "following in the footsteps of the Great Physician." May we never forget to hope for that day when "the moon will shine like the sun, and the sunlight will be seven times brighter, like the light of seven full days, when the Lord binds up the bruises of his people and heals the wounds he inflicted."

One major prayer item, besides general peace and trust in the One who has it all under control: One woman approached me at the church camp this past week and told me that she wanted to forewarn me that she experienced more spiritual oppression in Potosi than anywhere she's ever been. There is a huge mining culture there that believes that when they are below ground, they are with Satan, and appeasement sacrifices are routine. The Evil One holds sway over many of the people there. I am so thankful to know ahead of time that when I feel that darkness I'm not alone, but I would appreciate much prayer for a tangible knowledge of the power of Jesus over darkness and a continuous reminder that He conquered the grave. I don't think it's at all a coincidence that I'll be in Potosi for the majority of the Lent season, as I re-read Reliving the Passion by Walter Wangerin and meditate on the wonder of the cross.

I love you all so so much, and I can't tell you how thankful I am for your prayers. I had a lot on my mind, so I apologize for the lack of stories, but I'll be back to give you a glimpse of the wonderful church community that I experienced at Camp El Puente and what's going on in Potosi in a couple days!

I leave you with this prayer from Wangerin in my devotional this morning:

"Merciful Lord,
Hold me to the fire long enough to know my whole self truly, long enough to be cleansed be your burning forgiveness. Let me feel your passion again, studiously and well, to my good and to your glory, forever.
Amen."