“What is this?” I stand in a driveway off of the three-mile-long country road we live on.
College age men. Laughing. Playing volley ball.
I had followed the white trucks, the mini-vans, the cars, saying, “God Will Provide”, “International Missions”, and the most bold of all, “Jesus Heals”.
On a road filled with horses and cows, it looks like a caravan of hope, filing into somewhere I haven’t been.
And I had prayed to follow. Desired to see what was happening, down our quiet, country road.
That’s when I saw them.
And isn’t that what God wants from us? People who follow and don’t lead?
“We are a Christian organization”, the short, blonde, Russian tells me. “Pentecostal” originally, but really, “Non-denominational”.
I was skeptical, still wondering why some Russian organization might come to “our neck of the woods” far from the city, out to the country.
Why did they tuck themselves deep in the thick of the forest, creating some guys-camp without the rest of us knowing it?
I smile. Act gracious. Still wondering what cult might be taking up space in our casual, non-confrontational edge of this planet.
“Can I go to your website? I want to learn more about you.” I smile pleasantly, genuinely curious as to what this group is doing where we live.
“Of course”, his accent tells me. I was determined. Ignorance wasn’t about to kill me.
That’s when He said it. “Rehab’s, churches, and orphanages. It’s what we do.”
“Orphanages?” my spirit swirls. I hear that word and want to sign up right then and there. I don’t care if they are Russians, barely speaking English, or are a compound of men, when I’m a woman.
I remember when we first moved in. Six years ago, driving that first day we purchased our five acre lot.
My Spirit soared, I felt prompted to pray that God would use our quiet country road for something more, for Him….for His glory.
Walking weekly, I prayed over the houses. Asking God to do something big in a place others might see as worthless.
Then, it happened. The vans, the messages, the man on Easter praying fervently as He walked up and down our street.
Returning back what I once gave.
And why is it we forget that faith multiplies? Prayers ripple back to us as blessings? God uses each spoken message to move mountains, change history, create ministries in places others might think is useless?
I go to their website. Skeptical and still wondering if their compound is something dangerous.
But then I read. And watch. How much we learn when we stop talking, analyzing, solving the worlds problems…and listen with a heart that eager to learn.
For hours, I sit while my children are sleeping, waking my soul with their messages. Lives touched. Russians drawn out of addiction now leading ministry schools, modern day discipleship programs, leadership training…
Changing their world after being set free from their addictions.
God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit being activated through them daily. Living lives set free as they lay hands on people, plant churches, and build orphanages around the world.
I hear them…Stories of Peruvian’s set free from witch-craft, Asians delivered from hate for their parents, children homeless in Africa laughing because this ministry is building an orphanage for them.
The least of these; redeemed, taken from addiction and used as missionaries all over the world.
Lives changed, not after decades, but in moments. Set free, empowered by the Spirit to ripple the blessing they have been given. Not content to sit in pews, but determined to spread the gospel of the good news to others.
I see Africa, my secret destiny; Asia, where I have been two times; th
en of all places, Peru, the country my husband came from, originally. What are the chances?
All having church plants. All given land miraculously by the government. All planting orphanages, because God led some faith-filled immigrants to start a Russian ministry in America.
I feel small. Where I once felt large, indignant, territorial, and possessive of what is happening down our long, dirt road….
I now shrink small. Sit at the computer and weep at the thought that what I was “protecting” was actually faith-filled giants converting dozens and sending them out to preach the gospel, plant church, and demonstrate God’s love through healing.
I repent for my heart, the churches I am used to seeing…waiting for “one day” to see God moving, hoping eventually they will lead people to Jesus though so many are complacent, dry bones in their apathy.
I bow low from the stoic faces in corporate churches, thinking, far too many don’t even think they even need Jesus. While redeemed Russians are kneeling in repentance, being led by prayer to lands in far off villages….
Many might call this renegade of world-changers unworthy, uneducated, the outcasts of our society…but God sees them as willing.
And willing-hearts, not perfection, is what He asks for.
I repent after seeing the seemingly unlikely being radically changed by His Spirit. And not just converted, but sent out, making disciples.
Then, I pray for this ministry. The one almost exactly like the YWAM, discipleship program my nineteen-year-old just returned from. I pray that God continues to lead them, free them. I watch their videos and am taken by the grace of God and the power God releases through them.
And I am reminded…
We don’t have to be perfect to spread the gospel. We just need to be surrendered, digging into scripture and spending time each day, trusting Jesus to do exceedingly and abundantly more through vessels who have no hope, but Him…
His Power IS made perfect through our weakness.
And I don’t want to just sit and wonder, wait for what could be.
The Russians down the street have taught me….Prayer, repentance, and faith in a big God changes everything.
I walk down my street and pray. Excited for what is to come.
The Russians are praying too. I know this.
Us both utilizing the secret that changes the world.
What can you cling to God for today? Will you hold and believe…prayer truly changes everything?
