Last night at Hillsong NYC - Heart and Soul - Guest Pastor Phil Dooley gave an amazing illustration about what it means to be fruitful. We often ask God for abundant fruitfulness, an orchard of fruit, and God said he would give us that. So we open our hands to receive this orchard of fruitfulness and in our hands God drops a seed.
I don't know how many of you have ever gardened before, but even if you haven't, it's common knowledge that it takes time for a seed to grow up from underneath the soil. And it takes a great deal of time for that plant to grow before it can begin baring fruit. But in the mean time, that plant has to be taken care of. It needs good soil with nutrients to feed it. So I ask myself, what kind of soil am I feeding off of? What does my spirit need to be feed in order to bear good fruit? Also, don't be a potted plant. Pastor Phil used the illustration of a potted plant to explain how some Christians are living. Potted plants are all about appearance. Some people are only concerned with how it looks on the surface of the soil. But the roots are trapped, and limited. So when the enemy comes along, it's so easy for him to uproot you. Not only that, but potted plants don't bear good fruit. We have to allow ourselves to go deeper.
What stood out to me the most from his message as I related it to my own life was "What is the fruit for?" The apple is not for the apple tree's enjoyment. The fruit I bear as a Christian is not meant for my personal enjoyment. The fruit I bear is for the next generation. It is meant for others to take and eat. And when you bear good fruit, people will begin to gather around and see the good fruit that is a manifestation of the spirit of God inside of me. They will eat of it and open doors for the spirit of God to move inside of them.
I've been in New York a total of two weeks and two days. It feels like so much longer. The funny thing is, I'll be here for the next two years at the very least and it will probably go by fast. I finally feel like I've settled in some. It doesn't yet feel like "home" but I'm sure it won't be long before it does. I'm so ready at any moment to see God move. I want everyday to be filled with miracles and supernatural experiences. I want to always be open to those possibilities, but I also need to remember to have patience.
In this season, I believe a new seed has been planted and it is just beginning to take root. I have a lot of growing to do. I'm working on my orchard and that takes time, and patience. It doesn't happen all at once. But the beautiful thing about growth is that it happens on it's own. All I do is make sure I'm feeding my spirit the word of God and seeking his presence, which, at this point, I can't stand life without his presence.
Basically, sit back, relax and enjoy the ride. GOD does the work. All I have to do is focus on him. Easier said than done, but really, it's only as difficult as you allow the enemy to tell you it is.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Testing Your Faith
In my last blog, I talked about a blessed and relaxed first day in the Big Apple. Today, my blog is a little more challenging.
Yesterday was my first night on the floor at The Melting Pot in Hoboken. Praise the Lord I have a job. It was a blessing for me since I was down to the last of my cash and the night gave me a good boost. However, it was a nightmare. The branch has experienced a string of bad luck and bad management, so it's not in the best shape. That, of course, is a massive understatement. I'll spare you the details, but within two hours of being there, it easily matched my stress level from when I worked at another restaurant during the time I worked three jobs. Apart from all the technical and physical issues of the restaurant, the thing that effected me the most was the spirit of the place. Upon leaving, I felt so spiritually drained that it has taken me all afternoon to be refilled. The aggressive negativity of most of the entire company quickly sucked my spirit under into this nasty pit of darkness. I was not prepared. I ended up making it back to my apartment around 3:30am because after getting out at 1:45am and waiting for the 2:08 train back to the city, I decided to walk the ten blocks from the path instead of taking the L so I could call a friend of mine to vent. I stopped for a $3.50 piece of pizza because you can do that here. I spent most of today attempting to recover from last night, sleeping, praise music, desperately asking God to refresh my spirit in worship... I've frankly been asking Him how I'm to survive this job. He provided it for me and I feel as though I have more reason to stay than just the need for money.
Welcome to New York.
Yet, there is hope. Because of the general manager's openness, I have been asked to give any and all suggestions based off of my experience at The Melting Pot Birmingham. In the one night I was there, I feel as though I have established myself well with the other servers from that shift as well as the managers. I hope that I can be a light to fight the darkness.
Help me Lord, to you be the glory.
Because the truth is, I have been praying for opportunities for God to use me. I've been asking for supernatural acts, wonders, and sensitivity to His spirit guiding me to act when he calls. I am reminded that for a miracle to take place, the situation has to be outside the power of any man.
The first book of James says to...
"Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." - James 1:2-4
I spoke to my Dad over the phone and he suggested that this may be a training ground for leadership.
Lord. Help. Me. So I will count it all joy, that this is a testing of my faith so that I may grow stronger in who God is creating me to be.
One thing, though, I'll ever get used to (and hope I never do) is running across the homeless. It breaks my heart every time. I've come across several situations already where I felt helpless as a small female women in a big city, walking past men and women begging for help.
Welcome to the world.
One of my most shocking experiences included a man I came across in March when I was here for Applicant weekend at NYU. He was a tall, skinny, older black man with a small plastic cup and a hum-drum made-up song about sparing a dollar for the homeless. He was obviously not "all there". His eyes were blank and you could only catch a word here and there when he sang. I saw him three different times on the A train the four days I was here. The last time I saw him he walked onto the A train and began his song, holding his tiny, empty plastic cup. My heart went out to him. I didn't have any cash, and even if I did, who knew what he would do if I gave him any. So I began to pray under my breath, asking God to provide for his needs and cover him. It wasn't five seconds into my prayer when he kneels down, not 3-4 feel away from me, using the center pole for balance, and begins to pray out loud. It was some broken version of The Lord's Prayer. I almost started crying.
It occurred to me, whose fault is it that he was in the state he's in? He once has his mind, probably friends and family, possibly siblings. What was his story? Who didn't speak up when he needed a word from the Lord?
Last night, though, I saw a homeless man whom, I think, might have been dying. I'm not sure. I'm no doctor. But at 2:00am on Hoboken platform for the path back to the city I spotted him. His left pant leg rolled up and the leg that jutted out was massively swollen, the veins were blue, and it looked extremely painful. There was no sign of a wound so I assumed it was some kind of infection. He was older with a full beard. But the worst part was that I think he might have been throwing up blood.
This is very difficult for me to tell you about because it was extremely disturbing. I could barely get the story out when I was telling my friend about it on my walk home. It makes my stomach turn.
I didn't see him throw it up, I just noticed small pools of what looked like watered down blood around him where he had come to sit and the end of the bench near me. I begged God for guidance and prayed for him. Everything in me wanted to have the courage and faith to pray healing over him. I got the words that the Lord wanted to restore his life, but I was too afraid to talk to him. It was dangerous. He was obviously very sick. I didn't know what to do. I gag just thinking about it. I didn't know what to do and ended up helplessly leaving him there. When the train came, I was so torn up about it, I prayed that he wouldn't follow into my train car because I couldn't handle it. This man might have been dieing and I felt so helpless.
I know that my God is bigger than everything and He uses foolishness to confound the wise. If God was calling me to speak to him or pray for him, everything would have been fine. But my faith is not as strong as that yet. It breaks my heart. I followed my common sense and fear of what might happen had I spoken to him. But I pray for a day when I have enough faith that if and when the Lord calls me to a dangerous situation that I will have the faith that he will walk me through it. Last night was not that time. I do believe I did the right thing. But I also hope that in the future I will have the faith to act if the Lord calls me to in a situation such as that.
This world needs light. This world needs bold believers and faithful servants. Your faith will be tested and I encourage you to stay strong. When you pray, "Lord, Here am I... send me," be aware of what you are praying. Be aware that in order to grow, you must be challenged. Walk boldly in faith, take courage that He is with you and you will witness miracles. I believe it. I desire it. It terrifies me right now, but my desire to see God's hand move over this city is steadfast. New York is a very dark place.
The Father has great need of you. Run after Him like you've never run before. We are His hands and feet. But remember, it is not WE who do it. I have done nothing in my own power, only in the submission and obedience to His leading. Anything I have ever tried to do in my own power "for him" has failed. First and foremost, seek Him. He will strengthen your faith and give you the courage you need to do what he instructs you to do.
I'm praying for you as I hope you will pray for me.
Thank you and God Bless.
Glory be to Yahweh.
Yesterday was my first night on the floor at The Melting Pot in Hoboken. Praise the Lord I have a job. It was a blessing for me since I was down to the last of my cash and the night gave me a good boost. However, it was a nightmare. The branch has experienced a string of bad luck and bad management, so it's not in the best shape. That, of course, is a massive understatement. I'll spare you the details, but within two hours of being there, it easily matched my stress level from when I worked at another restaurant during the time I worked three jobs. Apart from all the technical and physical issues of the restaurant, the thing that effected me the most was the spirit of the place. Upon leaving, I felt so spiritually drained that it has taken me all afternoon to be refilled. The aggressive negativity of most of the entire company quickly sucked my spirit under into this nasty pit of darkness. I was not prepared. I ended up making it back to my apartment around 3:30am because after getting out at 1:45am and waiting for the 2:08 train back to the city, I decided to walk the ten blocks from the path instead of taking the L so I could call a friend of mine to vent. I stopped for a $3.50 piece of pizza because you can do that here. I spent most of today attempting to recover from last night, sleeping, praise music, desperately asking God to refresh my spirit in worship... I've frankly been asking Him how I'm to survive this job. He provided it for me and I feel as though I have more reason to stay than just the need for money.
Welcome to New York.
Yet, there is hope. Because of the general manager's openness, I have been asked to give any and all suggestions based off of my experience at The Melting Pot Birmingham. In the one night I was there, I feel as though I have established myself well with the other servers from that shift as well as the managers. I hope that I can be a light to fight the darkness.
Help me Lord, to you be the glory.
Because the truth is, I have been praying for opportunities for God to use me. I've been asking for supernatural acts, wonders, and sensitivity to His spirit guiding me to act when he calls. I am reminded that for a miracle to take place, the situation has to be outside the power of any man.
The first book of James says to...
"Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." - James 1:2-4
I spoke to my Dad over the phone and he suggested that this may be a training ground for leadership.
Lord. Help. Me. So I will count it all joy, that this is a testing of my faith so that I may grow stronger in who God is creating me to be.
One thing, though, I'll ever get used to (and hope I never do) is running across the homeless. It breaks my heart every time. I've come across several situations already where I felt helpless as a small female women in a big city, walking past men and women begging for help.
Welcome to the world.
One of my most shocking experiences included a man I came across in March when I was here for Applicant weekend at NYU. He was a tall, skinny, older black man with a small plastic cup and a hum-drum made-up song about sparing a dollar for the homeless. He was obviously not "all there". His eyes were blank and you could only catch a word here and there when he sang. I saw him three different times on the A train the four days I was here. The last time I saw him he walked onto the A train and began his song, holding his tiny, empty plastic cup. My heart went out to him. I didn't have any cash, and even if I did, who knew what he would do if I gave him any. So I began to pray under my breath, asking God to provide for his needs and cover him. It wasn't five seconds into my prayer when he kneels down, not 3-4 feel away from me, using the center pole for balance, and begins to pray out loud. It was some broken version of The Lord's Prayer. I almost started crying.
It occurred to me, whose fault is it that he was in the state he's in? He once has his mind, probably friends and family, possibly siblings. What was his story? Who didn't speak up when he needed a word from the Lord?
Last night, though, I saw a homeless man whom, I think, might have been dying. I'm not sure. I'm no doctor. But at 2:00am on Hoboken platform for the path back to the city I spotted him. His left pant leg rolled up and the leg that jutted out was massively swollen, the veins were blue, and it looked extremely painful. There was no sign of a wound so I assumed it was some kind of infection. He was older with a full beard. But the worst part was that I think he might have been throwing up blood.
This is very difficult for me to tell you about because it was extremely disturbing. I could barely get the story out when I was telling my friend about it on my walk home. It makes my stomach turn.
I didn't see him throw it up, I just noticed small pools of what looked like watered down blood around him where he had come to sit and the end of the bench near me. I begged God for guidance and prayed for him. Everything in me wanted to have the courage and faith to pray healing over him. I got the words that the Lord wanted to restore his life, but I was too afraid to talk to him. It was dangerous. He was obviously very sick. I didn't know what to do. I gag just thinking about it. I didn't know what to do and ended up helplessly leaving him there. When the train came, I was so torn up about it, I prayed that he wouldn't follow into my train car because I couldn't handle it. This man might have been dieing and I felt so helpless.
I know that my God is bigger than everything and He uses foolishness to confound the wise. If God was calling me to speak to him or pray for him, everything would have been fine. But my faith is not as strong as that yet. It breaks my heart. I followed my common sense and fear of what might happen had I spoken to him. But I pray for a day when I have enough faith that if and when the Lord calls me to a dangerous situation that I will have the faith that he will walk me through it. Last night was not that time. I do believe I did the right thing. But I also hope that in the future I will have the faith to act if the Lord calls me to in a situation such as that.
This world needs light. This world needs bold believers and faithful servants. Your faith will be tested and I encourage you to stay strong. When you pray, "Lord, Here am I... send me," be aware of what you are praying. Be aware that in order to grow, you must be challenged. Walk boldly in faith, take courage that He is with you and you will witness miracles. I believe it. I desire it. It terrifies me right now, but my desire to see God's hand move over this city is steadfast. New York is a very dark place.
The Father has great need of you. Run after Him like you've never run before. We are His hands and feet. But remember, it is not WE who do it. I have done nothing in my own power, only in the submission and obedience to His leading. Anything I have ever tried to do in my own power "for him" has failed. First and foremost, seek Him. He will strengthen your faith and give you the courage you need to do what he instructs you to do.
I'm praying for you as I hope you will pray for me.
Thank you and God Bless.
Glory be to Yahweh.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
The First 24
I woke up this morning around 8:00am, unable to fall back asleep. The window
was open and a myriad of city sounds were floating in with the breeze. I was
happy to hear that city sounds include the morning songs of birds along with
construction, cars, and the occasional human morning song. I slept on a padded
mattress with one sheet to cover me, and a pillow under my head. Both items
were provided by my new roommate, Hannah, for none of my belongings have
arrived yet. Hannah is a very sweet young lady, my age, who is a graduate from NYU with a degree in Theatre. I met her in person for the first time yesterday, after I wandered through East Village trying to find the apartment. Our meeting was sufficiently awkward and a tiny bit forced which is honestly no big surprise. Most obligatory first meetings with strangers aren’t natural. Since she is rather quiet I uncontrollably babbled to fill the space that would be awkward silence. The sound of a saxophone, that Hannah later explained was one of our neighbors, came from outside the window (which is obviously a beautiful portal of sound).
After she left for work, I took a much-needed nap on that naked mattress. When I awoke, it was early evening and the sun was low. I decided to take a walk and find food. I ended up wandering around, somewhat zombie-like, as I was still exhausted from traveling, and eventually decided on pizza (as it was the easiest of choices for my poor little brain). I also stopped at Rite Aide and bought a few essentials (toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, etc.) before I headed home (Home? What?) and proceeded to go back to bed.
This morning, I walked across the street to this adorable little coffee shop called “the bean” (specifically all lowercase letters) and asked for any bagel, I didn’t care which, and a medium coffee. I journaled and people watched… two things I love to do most.
I stopped back at the apartment to get my backpack and decided to explore. I ended up at Washington Square Park where I sat on a stone bench and enjoyed reading in the sun and breeze. Of course there was music; a few street performers playing Jazz. One guy had a saxophone (I sincerely wondered if he was my neighbor), and a group of three guys, one with a snare, kick, and a few symbols, and the other two with brass instruments. For some reason I can’t remember if the were both saxophones or not (I did not wonder whether either of them could have been my neighbor).
I think my favorite thing about New York by far is studying how everyone dresses. It’s utterly fascinating. It’s amazing, so many different people in one place. I could people watch forever.
But while I was enjoying myself in the park, two students, Lord forgive me for forgetting their names, asked if they could sit with me. It turned out that they were visiting New York for the month of June with the mission group CREW. We ended up having some good conversations about God and I prayed with/for them before we went our separate ways. Upon leaving they handed me a little flyer for a meeting at a Church called Apostle Now. Why not? They said there’d be free pizza, so… it sounds good to me! I kid, sort of. But I’m very excited about meeting new people.
It’s amazing how God connects us together so specifically. Who knows where God will take this opportunity? There were hundreds of people in that park and God led them to talk to me. I prayed for Godly friends and connections and within the first 24 hours God has already moved.
I can’t wait to see what else he has in store.
I’ve been here 24 hours, and I think I just might like it here. Maybe…
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