Let Faith Arise

I have no idea how many women's events I've spoken at over the last 12 years, but I do know that some of those events hold a very special place in my heart. I've met so many women through the years, so many precious and unique women. I've listened to their stories ... some that caused me to smile and laugh, and some that caused me to cry like a baby. I often say that I'm the one who comes away from the events with the greatest blessing ... those ladies don't know how much God uses them to touch me, they just don't know. The event that I spoke at this weekend in Branson was one of the most special retreats I've ever attended. I've got some funny stories to share in upcoming posts, not the least of which involves another giant bee. But this post, this post is about the amazing things I saw God do this weekend.

The purpose of the retreat was to help kick off a women's ministry in a church that hasn't really had any organized women's activities for several years. I was contacted by the gal who heads up the new women's planning team ... a group of seven ladies who most definitely are of one accord when it comes to having a heart for the needs of the women in their church. They worked tirelessly to pull the retreat together, and their efforts were obvious in every little detail ... candles on our pillows, ceramic coffee mugs with each woman's name written on them, beautifully decorated boxes filled with all kinds of things from bandaids to shampoo to tissues to candy and snacks, an outdoor scavenger hunt, lovingly prepared meals, fresh cut flowers in each bedroom, journals for taking notes ... they thought of everything, and they did an incredible job of making each woman feel welcome and special.

From the moment I stepped across the threshold of the lodge on Friday evening, I felt God's presence ... as I unpacked my things, I wondered just what God had in store for the weekend. After a sweet time of prayer with the planning team, I went ahead and ate dinner before most of the women arrived so that I could take my meds and keep my blood sugar level. As the women ate dinner, I wandered from table to table introducing myself and chatting with them. By the time the main session began, I was anxious to see where God would lead the evening. The worship time was such a blessing ... it always moves me to listen as women lift their voices in praise to the Lord, and when that praise is accompanied by the lifting of hands and the sounds of prayer, it's a powerful experience. Our first session was about friendship, and the ladies listened attentively as I spoke. As happens so often to me now, tears filled my eyes more than once and the women passed boxes of Kleenex around the room as their own tears fell as well. When the session was over, the women scattered throughout the lodge ... some eating snacks, some playing games, some talking, some praying. As I turned in for the night, I thanked God for the relationships He was already beginning to build among the women.

Saturday morning began with a long walk for me and a time of prayer and preparation for the day's sessions. Our first session was about service, and my tears returned as I told the story of Russell ... the homeless war veteran I wrote about in the post I Met a Man. After lunch was the scavenger hunt outdoors in the beautiful fall sunshine that filled the woods around the lodge, and then several of the women headed into Branson for some shopping. I spent most of the afternoon sitting outside on the deck chatting with some women from the planning team. It did my heart good to see the passion in their hearts as they talked about their desire for creating a ministry that would touch the lives of the women in their church. The evening session's topic concerned what the women would do when they returned home and how they would follow God's call on their lives to minister to one another and to others. I stayed up way too late playing a really fun game that one of the women had created, laughing and eating peanuts ... really good peanuts.

I've written a great deal over the last year about how God has humbled me, about how much He has broken me and how I've come to understand His desire that I surrender all of me to His will, that there be nothing that comes before Him in my life. The ladies of the planning team had asked that I give a short devotion this morning before we shared in communion and the retreat concluded. As I stood listening to the ladies lift their voices in song, waves of emotion washed over me and tears began streaming down my cheeks. I was completely overwhelmed with the presence of God in the room ... I could feel His spirit ... I could hear Him speaking to me ... I could see Him working in the hearts of other women. The sweet gal standing next to me placed her hand on my back and began to pray for me, and as she did, God's voice sounded loudly in my heart. "Remember you are mine, Terrie, remember my sacrifice for you. Remember that I'm holding you in the palm of my hand, my child, remember. I called you for this purpose, and that call remains. Speak to them of My love ... speak to them of My redeeming grace ... speak to them of Me. I am your strength ... I am your voice ... I am your Savior and your Lord. Trust me, Terrie ... have faith ... humble yourself and have faith in Me ... humble yourself before Me ... humble yourself."

When it was time for me to speak, I struggled to regain my composure but my efforts were in vain as I turned my back toward the women and my tears continued to fall. And then one of the women asked if they could pray for me and asked me to step into the middle of the group. As I walked toward them, I heard Him ... "Kneel before Me. Kneel in My presence." I dropped down on my knee as the women placed their hands on my shoulders, back and head and lifted me before God's throne. When they finished praying, I stood before them, humbled and weeping still, and spoke the devotion that God had placed upon my heart. As I moved from woman to woman serving communion, I understood at least in part the purpose of God's humbling ... my heart needed to be humbled and broken in order for me to serve the bread and the wine that symbolizes the death of my Lord. To further cement His lesson of humility to me, one of the ladies took a tissue and wiped my dripping nose as I served communion.

Thank you, ladies, for including me this weekend ... thank you for allowing God to use you to bless me. And thank You, Lord, for Your grace extended to me, a sinner so unworthy ... let my faith arise, Father, let my faith arise.