Nigerian Crusade

Bonnke Lagos

A few weeks from now I will be heading to Lagos, Nigeria to participate in the “Passing the Torch” crusade of Christ for all Nations Ministries. Christ for all Nations is the Ministry of Reinhard Bonnke and Daniel Kolenda. A few blogs ago, I told you about the privilege I had to attend their “School of Evangelism” in Florida, and it only whetted my appetite more to see first hand what I have only seen in video footage over the years. Here is a sampling of what I expect to see: “Harvest Joy”

I will be traveling with the CfaN ministry team as they will host a two-day “Fire Conference” for Nigerian Pastors, as well as an evangelistic crusade where they will  preach the Gospel and pray for the sick.

This opportunity has been a dream of mine since I was an 8th Grader. I am so excited to see the faces of the nations I have prayed for for years. I am excited to to share in the encouragement for native pastors, and to see the lame walk, the blind eyes open, the deaf hear, and the multitudes come to Jesus!

As I head out on this journey, I ask for prayer. Pray that God’s call on my life will be walked out in courageous passion. As I witness Reinhard and his team reaching out in Nigeria, my heart wants to continue to burst into flame and burn red hot with a passion to reach the lost. I know that this trip is part of the bigger picture in the direction God has set my heart, and I am so excited to keep stepping.

If you are interested in giving towards this trip, you may make checks payable to “Regent Life Church” and attach a note designating it to me and my trip. Their address can be found by clicking: here

I will keep you updated.

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Time Enough for One More

Yesterday was Easter, and after our family returned from church, I put into gear my “Easter Day Plans.” With only a few members of our family home for this holiday, I planned to sit down as a family and watch Mel Gibson’s movie The Passion of the Christ. So after our meal was over, and after venturing out on an egg hunt, I grabbed my box of kleenex, and we settled down in our living room to watch the Easter Story.

I had watched this movie when it first came out years ago, and I remember just lingering in my theatre seat with my head in my hands weeping for at least 10 minutes after the credits rolled. The severity of the torture, mockery, and beatings that Jesus endured and that this Hollywood film could portray, was more than I could take in, and the fact that He endured it all for me was overwhelming.

Watching the movie with my kids, I was peppered with questions as the story they had heard in bits and pieces over the years was now played out in a timeline of harrowing events. Between my bawling and nose wiping, I would explain who various characters were and what their roles were in the moments leading up to the crucifixion.

Over and over in scripture, when you read about the life of Jesus, you read about a man who was moved with compassion. He was constantly followed by crowds, and every crowd had needs–lots of them. Every effort He made to withdraw to solitary places to re-fuel, pray, rest, was met with one person, if not 5000+ persons, begging for His help or for a moment of His time.

The introvert in me cringes at the idea of having a super busy day, then finally relaxing with my family only to be barraged by a crowd of people all needing something that only I can provide them. And yet, this is Jesus on a daily basis. Even more striking is that those who insisted on His help, despite their verbal or societal persecution and isolation, always  received it. I’m talking about Blind Bartemaeus who shouted and shouted on the side of the road: “Jesus, Son of David, Have mercy on me!” And as the people around him told him to shut up, he cried out all the more. Bartemaeus received his sight back that day. (Mark 10:46-52)

Others would include the Caananite woman who insisted that if Jesus even dropped “crumbs” of His goodness in her direction, it would be enough to heal her daughter who was tormented of an evil spirit…and He did, and the daughter was healed. (Mark 7:24-30)

So, we are watching the final hours of Jesus’ Passion played out on the screen, and true to His character, even completely bludgeoned, dehydrated and weak, Jesus takes time. Dangling by nails on a cross suspended high in the air, a thief on one side of him cries out for mercy. If ever there was a “bad time” to ask for help from someone, this moment would seem to be the epoch. It’s been a long day…the kind of day where death is the welcomed ending in order to end the suffering. He is nailed to a tree for goodness sake!! What can Jesus do for a man like that at a moment like this??

I begin weeping again, as Jesus, full of compassion looks in the direction of the thief and comforts him with the assurance that He heard his cries for mercy, He loves and values the man, he forgives him, and He will personally see to it that when his last breath is taken, he will be joining Jesus in Paradise.

With His last ounces of oxygen, with the final moments of enough energy to speak, Jesus takes time for one more. Confirming again that God places a high value on people, affirming again that those who cry out to Him are heard, and that He answers, Jesus shows us what the Father looks like even while hanging on a cross. It’s some kind of beautiful madness.

Through a faltering voice I tell each of my kids in the living room, “This is the Jesus we have given our lives to. This is the Jesus we are living for. Whatever it may cost us to follow him, He is worth it all.” And I weep again, in awe of the God who has the time to answer my cries for help, and is moved with compassion for everyone He has made.

If ever there was a good time for you to call on Him, it is now. “Jesus, have mercy on me!”

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The Singing of Birds

Spring tells the story of hope reborn, and good things yet to come.

The Musings of Cate Morris

Homer SunriseThey’re back.  The silence of winter has been broken by the melodies of songbirds.

The bleakness of long dark days, that wane into long dark cold nights has been interrupted–even changed.

From the boughs of spruce trees and the barren limbs of alders and cottonwood come the melodic tones of the songbirds, who having completed their long migrations from the southern hemisphere, have perched in my trees to welcome my mornings.

It’s another sign of the promise of a faithful God who promised that there would be seasons, and that seasons would change.  For every Winter there is a Spring, and for every dark night there is a promise of new light, warmth, and fresh beginnings of a day full of new mercy.

The ground beneath my feet softens, changing from frozen earth to thin layers of mud that gradually become deeper layers of moisture and soil as the ice melts…

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Ummm….What was the Assignment?

I am reminded of this blog from seven years ago, as I prepare to be a part of a commissioning service for people called into ministry. I am reminded over and over that our assignment is about preparing a bride.

The Musings of Cate Morris

I envision the role of a worship leader similar to Abraham’s servant in Genesis 24 who was commissioned by his master to find and prepare a bride for his son Isaac.   Abraham bestowed gifts on the servant in order that the servant would lavish them on the bride-to-be.  Abraham entrusted him with the task of finding her, giving her gifts, and securing her heart for Isaac.

I’m sure the servant looked rather decked-out and wealthy as he traveled into town with Abraham’s many camels.  He himself may have even looked attractive with his determined demeanor.  Maybe the servant himself was a single man who hadn’t married and needed a wife as well.  I don’t know.

Several things you don’t see in this servant is a desire to flirt with the bride-to-be.  He doesn’t flatter her with stories about himself, or spread his fame using the position he has been given. …

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Who Told You?

I’ve blogged on this subject before in different ways, but as faithfully as I add cream and sugar to my coffee every morning, the principles of what I am writing about, I add to my life almost daily, and I wanted to share them with you.

Life is 5% about what happens to you, and 95% about how you interpret what happened to you. (I just made up that statistic). Out of how you interpret the events of your life flow your actions. Your responses to life flow out of what you believe to be true about your circumstances, and what you believe to be true about the resources you have to overcome them.

Life happens. Daily. Events, story lines, tragedies, triumphs, and blank stares happen to us on a regular basis, and we are quickly swept up in the narratives. Without time to process or think through everything, we move ahead, or backwards in our lives in familiar directions for the sake of ease, and when we find ourselves stuck, or in a rut, or unable to move forward, this is where these three principles began to ask me questions.

In Genesis chapter 3:1-11 we read the story of the first sin. Adam and Eve, (who had every right to think to themselves, “We are the only ones here, what does it matter what we do? It’s not like we are hurting anyone.”) disobeyed God and ate from the tree he told them not to eat from. Up until this moment, their narratives of life were interpreted through the lens of a good God who spoke with them daily, walked with them, and taught them everything they needed to know. Their “Resource” for life was unlimited, so no challenge was to great, and no questions nagged as doubts, until the introduction of another “voice”–Satan himself.

The introduction of the voice of Satan now created a new line of thinking…doubts. Lots of them. That doubt led to action–the sin. That sin led to another voice–theirs, but not the voice they communicated with God with before that was full of trust, expectancy, and delight, but a new voice that looked at their nakedness, their insufficiencies, their guilt, and clothed them with shame. And so they hid.

Have you ever been there? Hiding?

You are no longer answering the phone calls, replying to the texts, showing up to events you are invited to, making excuses as to why you can’t “get together” with people, spending more time in bed and solitude than usual?

This is where the first question of God to Adam and Eve comes to rouse me. “Where are you?”

Stop and allow God to ask this question of you right now. “Where are you?” Are you hiding? Are you making excuses? Are you hedging, fudging, hinting but not communicating? Are you disconnecting? Are you reaching for an addiction to numb yourself?

When you have finally answered that question with, “I am hiding”, the second question comes to unravel the secret.  “Who told you?”

God asks Adam and Eve “Who told you you were naked?”

You see, discerning the voices that drive our decisions is critical if we are going to come out of our hiding and into fellowship. “Who told you?” becomes the litmus test for truth, and gives us the ability to evaluate the voices and their validity in our lives. Even if the voice we are listening to has been in our head for years, (childhood memories, parents, school friends/foes, siblings), we still need to pull the narratives out into the light, and with them in full sight answer God’s question.

Once I have answered that question, I ask one final question of my narrative and situation, “Is this something God would say to me?” And if the answer is “no”, then I need to go to God to get His narrative. I go to scripture.

When I say I apply these principles almost daily, I am not exaggerating. It is something I have to make a part of my life to keep me moving in the direction of God’s goodness. It’s the means by which I access his reservoire of help and resource and hope for my life. It’s how I retrain my soul to hear His voice above all other voices, and make courageous decisions with His help. Faith comes by “hearing” His voice, and through the Word of God we “hear”. (Romans 10:17) Then faith is walked out by trusting that voice, and depending entirely upon His resources to take each step.

If you are in need of tools and life principles to help move you from a place of being stuck, I would like to offer these three questions to get you started. Make it a daily practice and begin to learn how to differentiate the “voices” in your head. What they tell you will determine your outlook, and your outlook will determine your actions.

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Memoires of His Presence

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Nine months ago, I stood in the room of 150 international, evangelism students in Orlando, Florida gathered to hear the Word of God and to join together in worship. In one of the sessions we began singing “I Exalt Thee”. Tears ran down my face like they did when I was nine years old standing in the front row of the church I grew up in as “Living Sound”, a ministry of Don Moen and Terry Law, led our congregation in worship with the same song. I felt the faithfulness of God who has carried me all of these years as I stood singing. My mind began to wander back…

All of these years…

I gave my heart to Jesus when I was five years old. My children’s pastor held a special crusade for kids and preached to us about eternity. About heaven, hell, God, Satan, the blood of Jesus and the forgiveness of our sin. I knew then that I wanted to spend eternity with God and that in order for me to do that, I needed to accept His Son Jesus, and have Him come into my heart and be the Lord of my Life. I was five. I went forward to receive Jesus in my heart, and I never looked back.

I can’t remember a day that I did not love the Lord. I can’t remember a day as a child when I wondered if He really loved me. I blogged before about my home life as a young girl, so you have got to know that life was not lovely for me or my family. I cried out to God at the altars of our church (which were the carpeted stairs leading up to the platform) when they would open them up for prayer. I prayed alot as a kid. The smell of carpet became the familiar place I would return to again and again as a child, and throughout my lifetime. I felt God meet me at those altars, and assure me of His love and hope for me. The presence of God became so precious to me even then. He saw me, He heard me, He answered me.

I was nine when “John Jacobs and the Power Team” came to my church to perform stunts of human strength, and preach the gospel. In the midst of muscular men breaking bricks with their heads, and blowing up hot water bottles until they burst, they spoke about the grace and forgiveness of God, and about the Holy Spirit whom God sent to empower us and baptize us with a fiery zeal to accomplish God’s purposes.

It was a Thursday night, and the promise was, after the “Power Team” concluded their presentations, anyone who wanted to receive the Baptism of the Holy Spirit could gather in the room behind the sanctuary, and John Jacobs would pray with us to receive what God had given in Acts chapter 2 of the Bible. I was quick to join the group that formed in that room.

John read to us out of the Book of Acts, how the disciples were gathered together in a room waiting for the Promised Holy Spirit that Jesus told them about who would “endue them with power from on high”. How there was a sound “as of a mighty rushing wind that filled the house where they were seated, and flaming tongues of fire descended on each one, and they were baptized in the Holy Ghost and began speaking in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance.” (Acts 2:1-4). He told us, like Peter said, in Acts 2:39 “The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off–for all whom the Lord our God will call.”

No one layed hands on me. I wasn’t sprinkled with anything, or given a list of requirements. This baptism was a gift from God, just like salvation is a gift, and all I needed to do was receive it. We lifted our hands in prayer and asked the Lord to baptize us with His Holy Spirit, and we began to worship. “Halleluia! Halleluia! Halleluia!” And soon my “Halleluia’s” became words I did not recognize, as I wept again in a strong presence of the Lord as the Holy Spirit baptized me and spoke through me in an unknown tongue. I was nine years old.

I knew what it was like to feel like I was in the presence of God as a child, but this Baptism in the Holy Spirit let me know what it felt like to have God’s presence inside of me. It was glorious! The scripture came alive that the “Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be uttered.”(Romans 8:26) I understood what it meant to have the Holy Spirit praying through me. Suddenly my prayer life took on a new dimension. When I didn’t know what to pray for, I would ask the Holy Spirit to pray through me and I would lift my voice in the language God gave me that night in the room behind the sanctuary where I gathered with other believers to receive that Baptism. It was a baptism that has marked my life. I understood that God lived in me. I began to see that God moves through me, and that God has committed Himself to me for the rest of my life–into life everlasting. (Ephesians 1:13-14)

I have been growing in this relationship with the Lord all of my life. I am 43 now. I know Who lives in me. I know What I carry. I know the Power at work within me, and the authority I have to bring God’s presence into any room. That is my honor, and that is His Glory. I will live to make Him known.

As we lifted our voices singing “I Exalt Thee” in that room in Orlando, Florida, I stood in God’s presence once again, and thanked Him for the heritage of faith He built in me, and for the joy and pleasure of serving Him with my whole life. I can’t think of anything sweeter on earth than His Presence, and I want to introduce you to Him too.

 

The Weeping

All I know is that I am to run to Mercy and take as many people as I can with me.

I was only 12 or 13 years old when the couple that I regularly babysat for were called to the mission field. He was a night stocker of groceries at the local grocery chain and slept during the days, and she worked at a local bank during daytime business hours.

They lived in a modest house in my hometown, and both worked hard to make ends meet and build their new life as a now family of four. I never asked them about their “American Dreams”, but perhaps that doesn’t matter, because I instead saw what happens to a person when God gives them a dream. They weep.

Their “Call” came through an introduction to a foreign nation to a foreign people by a missionary. This missionary shared his heart. He shared his love for his people. And my friends, Steve and Andrea were gripped to the core with a knowing that those people in Thailand, were to be “their” people and they were to sell all they had and move to Thailand.

I don’t know if I’d ever seen a grown man cry like Steve cried. His 6 foot, 6 inch frame would shake and tears would fall as the love for the people God had just put on their hearts began to grow and enlarge their capacity. His wife Andrea also was so overcome by the pulling of her heart to this nation they had never lived in, and people they did not yet fully know, and she would cry as one waiting to be reuinited with her family.

They began to ask, “How long do we need to continue to remain in America when God had clearly moved our hearts to Thailand?” They cried out for Thailand in their prayers. They spent their meal times fasting and praying for this thing that God had called them to. And in doing all of this, I watched them change before my eyes.

When they sold their home and temporarily moved in to an old farm house in a remote part of the area they discovered that it was infested with insects due to its long tenure without tenants. This home gave them more opportunity to save more money towards their mission goal, and as Andrea would smash spiders in the house, and chase off garter snakes, she would say, “I’m training for Thailand!”

The “Call” of God on a person’s life begins to change them. His desires become the gloves that the hands of the one “called” fit into. His heartbeat is the One that they hear when they lay their head down on the pillow at night. His longing for His people becomes the ache and the tears that run down the faces of those who have said, “Yes, I will go.” And suddenly their everyday life seems to lose focus, and the opportunity to share in the harvest of what God is doing begins to take shape as the only life worth living.

I am in that ache.

I weep more often. I find myself wishing for more time in prayer. I feel His call on my life, and it stirs in me like nothing else can.

My whole life has revolved around ministry since I was a small child. I love the Lord. I love being in His service. I love His church (with all her messes), and I love His servants whom I have had the privilege of joining the yoke with in many countries, states, and cities. And yet…

God spoke to me last Spring and told me to clear my calendar in order to learn some things He wanted to teach me. Not fully knowing what was in store, I answered “yes”, to some events that God used to shift my heart and renew my purpose. I wrote about them in earlier blogs.

I attended “Azusa Now” in Los Angeles, California in April and joined with over 65k people in prayer and intercession for our nation. A month later, I attended Reinhard Bonnke’s School of Evangelism, and have been weeping ever since. If you’ve forgotten about how good the news is that the Gospel brings, listen to Reinhard Bonnke preach on the “Jesus and the Adulterous Woman“, and like Paul Manwaring says, “You will fall in love with the Gospel all over again.”

God is renewing His call to me to the harvest fields. To the unsaved who need to know Him, who need to hear Him and who need Mercy and Grace to meet them right where they are. So right now I am in the season of weeping as the “Call” of God becomes formed in me. As I wait for my mission to match my commission, I weep, and pray, and fast.

If you find that my eyes puddle with tears more than they used to, all I can say is “God is forming me, and breaking my heart with the things that break His.” All I know is I am to run to mercy and take as many people as I can with me.

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