Three Cups of Coffee

It’s midnight.

I’ve had three cups of coffee within the last three hours. And this, my friends, is a recipe for disaster for a girl who can’t consume caffeine after the noon hour because she will lie awake in a quandary wanting so badly to go to sleep but whose body refuses to let her…  (gasping breath)

Hello, crazy.

Why did I consume three cups of coffee so foolishly late in the evening?

Because whenever you pair freshly ground Caribou Coffee with Cold Stone’s Sweet Cream creamer, you are morally obligated to partake indulge.

Tonight, the unbelievably amazing team I had the opportunity to serve with in Rwanda met for a fellowship of reflection, and I had the opportunity to really talk with my people.

There is something significant and sacred about doing life with a group of people during a special season. 

You know what I’m talking about. 

Whether it be a really joyful, happy experience like the birth of a new child; or a dark, mournful experience like the death of a close friend, there is certainly something in our human nature about experiencing things with other people.

When you walk through an intimate season so closely with a person, it’s easy to relate and communicate with one another because you both walked through the same thing—you may handle or react to the events differently, but you were there together. You experienced the same things together. A bond is formed. 

You just get it.

I love these people. We all get one another because we walked through this special season together. When people ask me, "How was your trip?" It's almost threatening. It's not supposed to be, but it is. There are so many intricate things that we experienced as a body that can never be replicated or explained. It's as if putting certain aspects of our trip into words wouldn't do justice to the beauty and sacredness of our experiences. But when we are together, we don't have to explain details or talk logistics, we already know all of that. So being together, we had the opportunity to really reflect on the spiritual influence that Jesus had on our hearts.

I know this sounds dramatic, but it's the best way I can describe it. Maybe you can relate?

Regardless, my heart is filled to the brim hearing about the reflection of each of my team members’ experiences and how it is affecting their every day lives. 

You wouldn’t believe the impact that this trip has had on each one of us, but what is even more crazy is the impact this trip has had on entire communities! People are eagerly seeking out my team members to hear about their experiences. People are longing to hear about the miraculous things that God did on our trip. People are longing to fellowship with the members of our group—they want to partake in the experiences that we had. That is awesome. That is God.

I’m trying to write a letter to my supporters explaining the things that God did on this trip and thanking them for their generosity. I want to tell them how overly grateful I am for their prayerful and financial support on this trip, and I want to explain how God showed His favor on this trip. I want to show them all of my pictures, my videos, and physical evidence of God's reality. I want to pour out my heart and share with them the dreams, visions, and prophecies that were shared on this trip, but it is hard. It is hard to decipher what to share with people. How much is too much? How much is too weird? How much is too spiritually crazy? 

But then I remember the last post I just wrote. 

I care.  

Guys, be patient with me.

(I once had a professor who told me I couldn’t refer to my class as “guys” because it isn’t gender appropriate, and I realize that a majority of ya’ll are female, but I am going to refer to you as “guys” because I can—please don’t be offended. I can also use the term “ya’ll” with confidence because I lived in Nashville for a summer, so I’m practically 1/3 southern.) I digress.

Eventually, I am going to share those things on this blog, but I need to write through them, first. This is how I best process things. I need to rediscover just how BIG our awesome God is, and just how PRESENT He was on that trip, and just how REAL He is with us today. here. now.

Reflecting and debriefing with my people tonight gave me such encouragement and motivation—even though a lot of us have felt spiritually attacked in the area of motivation since our return; I am confident that through the power of Jesus, the chains of that spiritual stronghold were broken tonight, and I can feel the freedom already.

Satan doesn’t want us to share the mighty feats of God we experienced first hand with our neighbors and communities. Satan wants to inhibit the things that we experienced on this trip, and he wants to downplay the power of God in order to eliminate our capability of sharing. This isn't surprising. The enemy comes to kill, steal, and destroy. 

By withholding my experience from others (both intentionally and unintentionally), I am allowing Satan to steal my voice. I’m allowing Satan to hinder the sharing of God’s amazing healing, grace, and glory. That just can't happen. I need to speak. I need to share.

Forgive me, Lord, for being impartial, for being unmotivated, and for being selfish. Encourage me, Lord, to use this trip as an extended mission field to speak of your power; and help me, Holy Spirit, to share about the mighty ways you moved through our team in Rwanda. Give me the words to speak, and establish my steps as I share your gospel through this experience.

And help me, sweet Jesus, to go to sleep before 3:00 am.

Amen.

A picture of our incredible team (minus Charlie), three sweet volunteers, and our beloved Rwandan gems!