Today’s Promises and Pews

Today was the opening ceremony of the Conference/Music Festival.

Mom talked Sunday about Abraham’s faith. He was told that he would inherit the whole land and he didn’t have enough space for one foot to call his own. He was named by God ‘father of nations’ when he had not one child.

He believed the promises.

We are Abraham’s children. I gaze up at the high vaulted ceiling of the cathedral that will house our conference. There’s an almost solemn hush over the rows of empty pews. These pews so unlike most Congolese church seating arrangements, yet such a blessing to us people looking to seat a thousand this week.

A thousand?

The seats are almost all empty. Only in the front row are a few scattered people sitting. Behind them the still void is like mocking laughter.

Where are the people?

While the opening ceremony was only for the important state and church leaders, it was still a chilling shock to realize how many of them were missing.

So many empty plastic seats in that cold, large cathedral. So many yawning pews stretching far to the back.

Although Abraham only saw Isaac, the promised multitudes of Israel were eventually born. And one day a man piled twelve large stones together. The representation of the fulfillment of the promise – the twelve tribes of Israel – he arranged into an altar on top of a mountain.

He dared the followers of Baal to prove the supremacy of their gods. They were many, and Elijah was one.

Out of all the chosen race, only one stood by the promises.

In that echoing church, the music begins to swell and I feel like Elijah. I feel like my family and Uncle Rich and these few Congolese pastors, we’ve all banded together and laid our dreams and hopes for these people on the altar. It looks pitiful. It looks foolish.

There are so many empty chairs. So much wickedness in this town. So many unrepentant hearts.

And we are not Elijah. I am not Elijah. I stand there knowing that I am asking for a miracle but I do not have Elijah’s faith nor his powerful prayer nor his righteous testimony.

I am not Elijah but God is still God.

When we go through with the program and the chairs are still mostly empty, I can feel the cold water being sloshed all over our slaughtered dreams and waiting hopes. So much water.

And it seems foolish, but I believe that God will come down. I believe that tomorrow the benches will be full, that the thousand will be there. I believe that hearts will be transformed. I believe that this conference will be used mightily by the Holy Spirit.

Because God is still God and His promises hold.

This is His promise; I will heal your faithlessness. (Jeremiah 3:22)

The faithlessness of my own cold heart, the faithlessness that has resulted in bitter marriages, splintered families, passive men and rebellious children.

God will come down and His Spirit will work and He will turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers that this land may be healed.

Uncle Rich speaks and I know that this is the message Isiro has been waiting for. That somehow God’s plan is always right, and this is His plan.

For years different people have been praying for something like this, for years God has been preparing individual hearts…..

And now I wait to see the glory of God descend among His people.

When we came to Congo and I started speaking Jesus to Congo-girls, I painted out God’s promise to hang on my wall as a reminder:

I will be their God and they will be My people.

God always fulfills His promises. Even if it is only the generations after that in looking back see the transformation that came from this week, I know that there will be transformation.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow.

Photo credits to Mr. Desmond who came with Uncle Rich.

Impossible Revisited

He leaned forward, the wooden chair creaking mournfully.

Carefully he opened his mouth, fixing us all with his stern glare. Everyone stilled in anticipation of his weighty words.

“God is doing something here.”

I squeezed my hands together tight in my lap.

“We have prayed for this. We have areas in our lives that we have not changed, and now is time for transformation.”

Silence still fills the room, but heads are nodding. The curtain separating the Biblical view of the family and the current practice of the family in Isiro has been flung back in the last few months, and we are amazed at the gap in between.

“This is God’s time for our families. This is God’s time for transformation.”

He keeps speaking, but I’m just overwhelmed.

The fact that I. am. right. here.

All around me sit choir leaders, and we have come to discuss the “Summer 2012 Event”. This “event” has been one long string of miracles and unexpected revelations, of God working in hearts, and of people standing up with a revolutionary message.

It’s occupied a lot of our thoughts lately, with my parents especially sacrificing much time and effort to carefully think through all the issues and plans. It’s taken up our supper time conversations and our family prayers. I haven’t blogged about it yet because the plans were changing so crazy fast that Mom thought it wise to wait for everyone to be of one mind before I posted about it.

But now, in a few weeks, “it” will happen, and we’re excited….and we’re coveting prayers.

The (very) basic idea is as follows: during the morning we have a conference, during the afternoon, a music festival.

The overarching theme is this: CALLING MEN OF COURAGE!

Isn’t that great?? We all believe that this is what Congo needs. One courageous Congolese man who has totally caught fire with the vision of transformed families is showing the film Courageous almost every night all over town in different churches.  And as people hear about it, others want to see it.  That’s our publicity.

Other inspired, courageous men are taking the initiative to stand up and call others to hear the message, to answer the challenge, to accept the call.

It’s just awesome.

And best of all, it’s going to be combined with music. Sitting there in that church, listening to the words of welcoming change roll around me, I watched the faces of the people around me carefully and prayed hard that they would hear and understand.

Because I was sitting in the middle of a group of choir leaders – the people who, in my opinion, wield one of the most powerful weapons in Congolese culture – music. Many church choirs will compose songs to sing for the week long event (July 3 – 8, 2012). The songs of each afternoon will correspond to the teaching of the morning.

The teaching of the mornings will be as follows:

• Tuesday: Supreme Power, the Authority of the Bible, and Salvation through Jesus Christ
• Wednesday and Thursday: CALLING MEN OF COURAGE
• Friday and Saturday: Sex and Relationships, Family
• Sunday: A Call to Repentance

You see what I mean? This is great stuff.

The primary speaker will be my Mom’s brother, our Uncle Rich. This is the message of his heart, and the message we in Congo really need to hear. It is mind-boggling to think of how many years of preparation God planned before this conference/festival could happen! For years Uncle Rich has been developing this message and wanting to come to Congo.  For over a year pastors in Isiro have been praying that this subject would be addressed but their plans to organize a conference were always blocked, and for two years I’ve had this wacky idea of Impossible. I’ve posted about it. Well, God took that impossible and the prayers and….and now it’s a LOT bigger and a LOT more impossible!!

Which means?

I’m really looking forward to seeing this miracle!

There are so many unknowns. How are we going to feed two thousand people for a week? How are we going to sort out all the logistics, make sure people’s questions are answered, provide leadership, technical support, etc.?

My Dad had this awesome idea of recording all the teaching sessions and the music and putting it onto memory cards that the youth and others can buy to play on their cell phones.

We’re working with some Congolese pastors, trying to organize a team of small group leaders from different denominations who can lead discussions after Uncle Rich speaks.

We’re just praying that those choir leaders are inspired by God as they write songs on ideas and concepts that are still so new to them.

You see?

Impossible.

The meeting draws to a close after a long discussion of logistics. We stand, and the pastor at front who had triumphantly proclaimed the message of transformation is now singing low and soft….

Nkombo na yo, nkombo na yo….nkombo ya Yesu..

We pick it up after him, and I thrill through and through to the beautiful singing, the rounded words flowing gently around me, the strength of the melody, the gentle drumming drawing it all out. Your name, Your name Jesus…Your name is my hope, Your name is my success, Your name is my beauty…..

His name fills the church, His praises vibrate the brick walls. In His name we claim the impossible. In His name we will do valiantly. In His name the hearts of the fathers will be turned to their children, and the hearts of the children will be turned to their fathers. In His name, we will be transformed…and the curse will be lifted from this land.

- Malachi 4:6