Prayercast | India

Staring at the Son

Unexplainable Stories, originally uploaded by nickinafrica.

Every wonder what it would be like to stand before the throne of God and to gaze into his face. To look unwavering into his eyes and to acknowledge him for who he is?

I wonder if staring into the face of God is like staring into the sun. The light is simply too intense that even to lock our eyes on it for a moment can cause damage to our retinas.

Maybe God is like that. So big and powerful and bright that we simply have to look away. Even when God spoke to his people on occasion the Bible tell us they trembled in fear. During the exodus, the Israelites pleaded with Moses not to let God speak but to speak for him his voice was so terrifying.

So can you imagine what he looks like?

I believe that we can look into the face of God. Even now. And we can do that because of what Jesus, the Savior of the world, did for all of us. He lived a perfect life - not just to man but blameless before God - and then offered it as the ONLY acceptable sacrifice for the sins of the world.

Jesus took God who we should fear for his wrath and his anger because of the blood on our hands and allows us to look into the face of God with a HOLY fear - of reverence and love.

When Christ died for us he for the first time since the dawn of creation allowed man to enter before the presence of God.

We are free and forgiven and we can know God and his ways and his love and his plan for us.

If we just look to the Son.

Caught off guard

I don't know what happened, but it did. I was minding my own business when God did.. something. I was just thinking. Maybe daydreaming. Reminiscing..

You see, one year two months and ten days ago I left India.

I can still remember the faces, even though the names faded so quickly.

I can still remember every story behind every picture I took.

I can still remember that final turn when that mountain town I called home for six months disappeared.

Ten seconds for you to read those last three lines. Ten minutes for me to write. I can't help but remember.

I'm married now. I'm finished with school. Working two jobs. Life is good. We've got one foot in two churches. We're trying to make a difference in a few (if only) youth.

Which was why I was daydreaming.

With four other young men, I'm leading a group of Jr. High boys in a study asking us to meet Jesus as the disciples did. Last Wednesday the lesson was Jesus as Healer. I flipped open Anthology, a collection of stories and thoughts from dozens of men and women involved with the work of eMi in India. I knew I could find a story there.

Without permission, I'd like to share one.

"April, 2004

Kolti Village

R, L and I went to the villages to help deliver medical supplies with Samuel. The last village we went to is at the very bottom of the valley. All the kids in the village gathered around in the village square and Samuel taught them how to stay healthy before he spoke to them a little about Jesus and then prayed with them. Even though these are just children, the effects of a difficult life seem to have already taken a toll on them. Samuel took us to the last house in the village to meet a boy he is helping. The boy has only one leg because of polio, and this leg was paralyzed. We also learned that he lost both of his parents so he is living with his brother who is taking care of him. When we got to their house he was sitting on the porch with the best smile I have ever seen and greeted us by saying 'Jai Masih ki' (victory to Jesus). This is a greeting in India for many Christians, but it never had as much impact to me as it did right then. Here I was, standing, thinking about the times I doubted God when I thought things couldn't get any worse; and here this boy is claiming victory after going through things I cannot even imagine. At a moment when I could have been overwhelmed by pity, I was overwhelmed with Joy - seeing how real Jesus is to this boy (and now even more to me). My whole perspective of life has changed - I thank Jesus for what he taught me at that moment. - Z"

I paused a moment and then flipped the pages. And then it happened.

I wept.

I've never been one to cry. And I couldn't understand why I felt so moved. I felt shaken! Knocked off my emotional feet.

All I could think was this: I didn't deserve God's grace.

I don't deserve all the blessings I have. I didn't deserve to go to India. I don't deserve forgiveness.

Bawling.

Revelation Song came in my head as tears flowed like floodwaters.

"Worthy is the lamb who was slain - holy, holy is he."

Man. God is so good. He is everything. He is..

I talked a bit about my friend Samuel in the final months of my trip. I speak with him every Monday now on the phone. He believes God can do anything.

I want that.

Brother Samuel felt God lead him to villages accessibly only by foot in northern India. He quit his good government job and by faith began ministering by offering medicine and God's word. One day God tells him he's gonna have a building where a vibrant church community will worship. Orphans and widows will find refuge. Doctors will come to provide clinics and treat the sick. One caveat. There was no money. But as Samuel always tells me:

God is our provider.

Just a few miraculous grand later he holds the deed to a beautiful plot of land.

So he tells me a couple weeks ago that God will work through me so that they will be able to build and have at least one room ready for VBS next summer. $50,000 to build phase 1. Can you imagine hearing that?

Brother Harry, God is our provider.

So here I am now. Trying so hard to believe that God can do what to me seems so impossible.

God will provide.

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