AWE

The past few days have reminded me of when I was on a cruise about two years ago... it was one of those "last minute deal" cruises... very inexpensive... and very last minute.. I know what it was so cheap, too. It was my fifth cruise, but, by far - my lease favorite. However, there is something to be said for the experience I had. The Lord reveals himself in ways that aren't always planned to us, and if places that aren't always perfect to us. But they are in his time and in his way.

While we where on the ship, we went through a tropical storm. In fact, it was the first storm of hurricane season. The hot Caribbean rain was brief because we detoured and passed through the edge of the storm fairly quickly. Not, however, quick enough to escape the rolling seas that caused the ship to rock, what seemed like, uncontrollably. Many of the passengers where sea sick and had quarantined themselves inside their boxy rooms. Others, not tending to the sickly, were somewhere other than the upper and outside decks. Ignoring the red and white “Warning – Do Not Open – High Winds” sign on the door to the Promenade deck, I made my way out to the open-air area of that deck and walked the length of the starboard side to the ship’s forward. Standing in the center of the ship’s forward deck in the middle of the night, there was no one else around. It seemed no one else had dared to ignore the warning sign. There I stood, at the forward most point the ship’s passengers could go, and all alone in the darkness of nightfall. I just stood there, taking it all in. Just to be there in that moment, I felt closer to God. I really wanted to pray, but could not manage to muster any words appropriate enough. Then it hit me. I was praying. Prayer is not communication so much as it is communion with God. I was communing with Him. I started thinking about this massive ship I was on: The M.S. Holiday. It was one of the first in Carnival’s fleet of vessels and is the smallest, weighing in at 92,104,000 pounds (46,052 tons). Though the comparatively small size of this - still - massive vessel, thousands of people went into laying it out, building it, putting it together, decorating it, and many other things that had to be done to get it ready to serve as a floating resort. As I stood there at one of the highest and most forward points of the ship, I thought about the thousands of people that make ships such as the Holiday possible. They are huge and breathtaking. Then I looked out in front of me and saw the expanse of the ocean all around me. Though it was dark, the white light from the moon managed to glow from behind the thin layer of passing clouds to kiss the water just enough to draw the horizon where the dark vastness of the ocean met the infinite and starry sky. I knew from one of the captain’s earlier briefings that we where sailing on seas upwards on a mile to two miles deep. There I was: standing alone on this massive manmade liner surround on every side by God’s beautiful creation. Here is the ship that took more than a year for thousands of people to create pushing along in this stretch of depth, miles of clear horizon, and under a spectacularly endless sky… all of which God created by himself with a word and in less than a few days. I was in the midst of God’s glory. “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim His handiwork.” - Psalms 19:1. When John Piper was once asked to define “glory”, he responded, “It is like the word ‘beauty’. We all can use it and communicate with it, but to reduce it to words is frustrating. It is easier to point to examples.” I really feel like the Lord brought me out on a boat in the middle of the ocean, at that place and moment in time to really knock me off my feet. My past prayers for God to reveal His glory to me seemed out of place. If I know everything, including myself, was created for His glory, how should I live? 1 Corinthians 10:31 says, “So, whatever you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” In Matthew 5:16, Jesus tells is to, “let our light shine before others so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” If I truly believe that everything is for His glory, everything I do should be for His glory. The problem is, I do not always fully believe in the Glory of our awesome God, my Father. If I believed it, I would live like it. If I truly believe it, then I should live like Moses and seek God’s glory and then resolve to claim it.

“Do you believe in angels?” I remember being asked this question when I was just a kid. It is a common question. Nearly as common as, “do you believe in God?” As a kid, my answer was quick, “Yes!” My child-like faith allowed me to believe in things without trying to find alternate explanations, and my answers to these questions were without the cynicism that I quickly acquired in my early teenage years. Today, I am just as likely to answer, “yes” to questions like this, but I have to battle against my reasoning that makes me want to attribute the things that we can only describe as super-natural as such.

A couple of Fridays ago, I was at the office. It was a typical Friday. There was a lot to get done from a week of being [just a little] behind, and the “shift horn” was about to blow us into a warmly welcomed weekend. As a ministry, and especially being downtown, we find ourselves recurrently visited by people who notice the “ministry” sign hanging outside and assume it to be a beacon for those in need – as well, that is exactly what they should assume, if we get right down to it. For someone who says he loves to serve, I sometimes – admittedly – get frustrated when the completion of my “to do” lists are delayed because things get added to them.

On this particular Friday, at this particular time, we were trying to meet a mail deadline for our summer flyer blast. Then, as though she had spotted the ministry from the doctor’s office adjacent to us, an older woman made her way across the street and to the sidewalk in front of our office. As soon as we realized she had noticed us, we started paying a little more attention. With just a slight hesitation she started walking the few more steps to our office. Only moments before we realized she was going to come in and not just window browse down South 5^th, my collogue and I made, what could be – at best - described as critical comments about this lady that we knew absolutely nothing about. We christians (intentionally left un-capitalized), in the confines of our lofty office, exercising our refined disciplines of “to do” ministry, thought nothing of giving her labels and stereotypes. All while having spent the last few weeks promoting our Mexico mission projects under the tagline, “You don’t have to go around the world to make a difference.” After rethinking this, maybe I should rewrite the line to read, “You don’t have to go far to make a difference, start with yourself.”

She was an older lady… maybe in her 60’s. Her thin, dull hair, aged face, and quivering hands were indicative of the life that had brought her to our doorstep. She reached for the handle, which put both my coworker and me in a brief, silent stage of conjecture. She stepped just inside the door and, with a voice as shaky as the hand she extended to greet me, she asked, “Are you a ministry?” Even then she only had half of my attention as I tried to keep doing my “work” and talk to her. “Yes, ma’am, we are,” I replied. It was a typical question that was commonly a lead-in to requests for any number of things. “Do you do missionary work?” she asked. The particular phrasing she used in asking the question was different enough for me to stop what I was doing and clarify the inquiry. “Do you mean, do we do mission trips?” She nodded and replied, “yes.” “Yes ma’am we sure do. Breakaway has been all over the world the last several years, and we are going to Mexico a good bit this year.” I said, boastfully. At this juncture, I wasn’t sure what was coming next, but I assumed she had stepped in to make conversation.

“I’d like to give some money to the mission trip,”

she said. She opened her purse and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. My heart broke under the weight of its own poor condition. I took the bill and sat in on the desk. I had no idea what to do or say. God had brought my sin into the light, and I couldn’t even say “thank you.” I went to get my Director, Eddie, from next door, and on the way, I had to regain myself. I returned with Eddie about a minute after going to get him. He began talking to the lady about her life and where she had been. She immediately began talking about God with this faith that just poured out of her. She talked about her church, and about miracles in her life and times when she had experienced the presence of the Lord.

Eddie reached out to grab her hand, and she began to pray scripture over him. Not “bowing her head and closing her eyes,” but locking eyes with him and boldly proclaiming scripture over him with extraordinary authority. After which, Eddie prayed for her. The lady then left and I literally was sick. The only thing I could think about was this woman whose faith could crumble mountains. The fact was, her faith wasn’t just spoken. Speaking is easy. Her faith was evident, tangible. Why? Because there she stood with nothing much to offer but giving all she had.

I thank God that His response to me was not the same as my response to her when I first saw her coming. My wretched sin had me so caught-up in the agenda of ministry that I forgot to do ministry. I am often crippled by the lie that my God is so caught-up in his God-sized agenda that perhaps he really doesn’t worry much about me when he sees me coming. Or the lie that maybe he sees me coming and grumbles about ‘what I am going to need next.’

Truth be told, we look like this lady. We are worn out with not much to offer. Our faith should never be placed in what we have to give God. If that were it, we’d put a lot of faith in ten-dollar offerings that bear ten-dollar results. We, the offerers, do not determine the value of our life’s offering. Its value is determined by to whom we offer it. If we keep our life to ourselves, then the only value it will have is the value we can accrue, but end the end… it’s worthless. This lady came and gave what she had. She gave regardless of what the gifts value appeared to be. Rather, she gave ten dollars in obedience, and in faith that her offering was priceless and that all she had to give was enough.

Some say they don’t believe in angels. Some say angels do exist, but they don’t come to earth, and certainly they don’t come in the form of a person. Others do not believe in angels. To some, they have a “guardian angel” that protects them and comforts them. To others, angels are bright lights that speak to them. To others still, it is their loved ones, and children. To me, an angel is an old white-haired woman with a faded dress and worn-out shoes who gave what little she had in obedience to her God she loved.