Hope Rising

Part I: Life Interrupted

I will tell the kindnesses of the Lord,
The deeds for which He is to be praised,
according to all He has done for us -
yes, the many good things He has done for the house of Israel,
according to His compassion and many kindnesses.
He said, "Surely they are my people";
and so He became their Savior.

Isaiah 63:7-8

We are told to tell of the great things that the Lord has done... for He has done many.
We so often fail to recount exactly what or how He has moved or worked… and, consequently, we so often forget. Perhaps we do not understand precisely what is meant by ‘great’. Perhaps we, as a whole - much like myself, as a single person - believe that the word ‘great’ means (as it is quite often defined) elaborate, predominate, superior, dramatic. Something emotional and life changing that stands out from the simple little details and goings-on of life.

But our God is in the details. And in these He displays His glory.

So, here follows the account of what God has done, first at camp, and Caborca will follow.
The week before Caborca was EVBC Summer Camp 2006: Life Interrupted. Quite a title for quite an event. I had anticipated and looked forward to its span of five days as a time of rest and rejuvenation - a material ‘calm before the storm’, if you know what I mean. I could hardly of imagined anything much further from the truth… but the Lord moved, and through me… and that’s really all that matters.

My discipleship group - a collection of about ten girls from all different homes and backgrounds - is quite a hodge-podge of cultures and lifestyles and worldviews. Last camp we were a mere five - five strong, devoted, Bible-believing Christian girls who were given to the Lord and to ministry. Immediately after Summer Camp 2005, however, we’ve lost two leaders, merged with another group, and things have been rather different ever since. None of us knew each other when we got on Bus #12, and few of us were sure exactly how to go about remedying that. Although I never would have admitted it, discipleship, for quite some time, had become a bi-weekly "event" for me… corporate worship on Sundays, small groups on Wednesdays, and... that was about it. During my duration in student ministries, I’ve been subject to about 9 or 10 discipleship leaders, met with literally hundreds of girls, and undergone so many changes that I finally stepped back and just let things run about a year or so ago. Being involved had become too much of a chore for me - seeing as how I hate change - and I generally invest my time and energy into steady, lasting relationships. By the time camp rolled around I finally realized how completely worthless and ineffective I was to my group as a whole… and after a huge leadership overthrow and the ensuing general heartache, I realized how much I really was needed there.

But relationships don’t happen overnight - I learned that in a hurry.

By Sunday night of camp, it was becoming increasingly obvious that there was a vast void between our girls and the unity we desired. The facades that we had all been so busy creating the year round were falling apart as God’s Word was once again introduced into their lives - and, for a few young women involved, huge problems were surfacing. Those in the group who were more grounded received little attention - unless they were particularly skilled in making themselves heard. I understood these girls’ problems and pain far better than I did the other… and so this collection of about four became my target group for the remainder of camp. And yet, the more I talked and taught and admonished, the more I realized my own inability. My own weakness. My despair grew as I realized how unable I was to affect any change in the lives of these girls. Every word I spoke seemed empty. They needed far more than anything I could give them.

Sunday afternoon was one devoted entirely to prayer. After an hour of what was dubbed the Sunday ‘prayer walk’, a few of us congregated to lift the upcoming Caborca trip to the Lord. Something - perhaps the passion of my fellow believers with me, perhaps just this time with the Lord - broke me. Immediately afterwards I ran with all my might to the little old prayer chapel on campus, and there I gave it all - my worries, my desires, my hopes and my despair - over to Him whose compassion and faithfulness became, there and then, my only stay in a sea of turmoil and upheaval. My desire was to be an anchor for my girls, a foundation that they could hold on to… but I cannot occupy that place for them. I am not what they ultimately need. And yet there is One who is. Hebrews 6:16 - we have this hope as an anchor for the soul.


Immediately (things seemed to happen rather suddenly that week!) I ran outside and found my 'camp corner' - a particular secluded spot I had "claimed" a few years back. For a few moments I just sat there quietly, looking out on His marvelous creation - a vast, open sea - as the sun slowly slipped behind its edge, casting rays and ripples of bright color dancing across its surface. (The heavens, indeed, proclaim His glory!) I was suddenly reminded of His constant faithfulness - He causes the sun and the moon to shine, He has contained the great ocean from shore to shore. He causes all things to live and move and have their being - and yet He has never left me. He has never ceased to care for my every need. Even when I - stubborn child that I am, like an unfaithful bride forsaking her first love - have spurned His guidance, have sought every other path that this shallow world had to offer - never, never has He left my side. He continues to sustain me and to be my only hope. Why? Why? I cannot account for it. For I am so unlike Him. He is so far beyond me. Psalm 139:5 You hem me in - behind and before; You have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Slowly, surely, every verse of a favorite old hymn came to my mind with full force - its gentle truth stirring me to remember the One in whom true hope - my hope - is found.

'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus
Just to take Him at His word,
Just to rest upon His promise,
Just to know, "Thus saith the Lord."

(Chorus)
Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!
How I've proved Him o'er and o'er
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus -
Oh for grace to trust Him more.

Yes, 'tis sweet to trust in Jesus
Just to trust His cleansing blood,
Just in simple faith to plunge me
'Neath the healing, cleansing flood.

Oh, 'tis sweet to trust in Jesus
Just from sin and self to cease
Just from Jesus simply taking
Life and breath, and joy and peace.

I'm so glad I learned to trust Thee:
Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend -
And I know that Thou art with me,
Wilt be with me till the end.


Wilt be with me till the end… what wondrous love is this! There was nothing else that my lonely, sinful heart sought. I could ask for nothing more. In spite of my unfaithfulness, I felt that I could finally rest; that peace had been granted me. I threw myself into ministry once again - but this time with a much greater assurance, with a peace that I had not known for many months. There was nothing that I could say to any of these hurting girls that could bring them to Him; nothing at all. There was no eloquence that I could use, no words I could fashion, no admonishment or exhortation or prayer I could give that would make them change their minds and turn them back to their God. It was all Him. Never have I loved His sovereign will more; never has my fearful soul worried less.

That last Monday night we were told that an interruption was planned for us. No one knew exactly what that meant; few of us were prepared for what came next. At precisely 9 o’clock that evening the whole lot of us - a good eight hundred or so, at least - filed quietly into the open air ampitheater of Point Loma University. No speaker or voice accosted us - just a black screen in the center of the floor - but the words that we read there that cold Monday night are words I will not soon forget. They spoke of a great God; a Savior far beyond us. They spoke of our own sin, our need to repent. Of a plan for our lives - a plan and sovereign will that would guide us even through moments we could not understand, through trials we had not foreseen. To our left and to our right were two white walls, clear canvases on which we were invited to leave behind what we had brought with us. Our burdens; our worries; our desires; our fears. That’s the whole point of camp, anyway - to leave behind every encumbrance and the sin that so easily entangles that we might press on. There was a moment of absolute silence as the screen went black. One boy rose, stepped forward, and slowly, the rest of us followed. A few moments later I stood and began climbing down from my seat somewhere in the middle of things; for some inexplicable reason the stairs blurred a little in front of me, and I momentarily lost my footing. Eventually I made my way to the canvas myself and stood a moment, trying to think of something to say. My heart was so full and my mind so busy that I could hardly think straight or form intelligible sentences - but somehow I gave it up to Him.

It was as if my head was then lifted.

I stopped on my way out and looked up, one last time, at that screen, all dark but for two simple words - Life... interrupted.

How true, I thought, as my eyes strayed to the dark sky above me, littered with a plethora of bright stars. (There are so many of them out there, on the edge of the world.) Lord, let us not soon forget.

I reached my bedroom about 1 or so that evening - or morning - if you like; I made it into the building just before all the doors were locked and barred shut. Rarely have I felt a surge of greater, deeper joy than I did that night. I had a chance to talk long and hard with two girls whose lives He had allowed me, in the past, to impact in some way. Last year, that very night, He had saved the hard heart of a young girl whom I had lifted up to Him many times in prayer. That night, I saw - in a more tangible way than ever before - how the Holy Spirit changes people. We are not, as sinners saved by grace, merely better versions of what we were before; everything - everything - is made new in Christ. The old has gone - the new has come! This girl, who had once sought anything and everything but His saving grace - was now changed so completely, was now so in love with her Lord and with His gospel that I hardly recognized her.

I will never doubt His ability to do great things again.

The Lord has lately filled my heart with so many new desires and passions and loves that I hardly know what to do with them. I feel the work of the Spirit as He molds me and makes me into His very great image, and as He prepares me for womanhood and for the role as a wife and a mother that I will someday take up, if indeed He so sovereignly chooses. All I can do now is trust. Praise be to His glorious name - this, my life, is all for His name’s sake anyway. It is all that I can offer - and yet He sees the very depths of my heart - in all their black filth - and yet He remains faithful. This, my friends, is a love indescribable. And I hope, as I continue to grow in Him, that I might be found faithful as well, as He continues to carry out in me the work He began in me almost five years ago now - July 10th, 2000. Forgetting what is behind and pressing on toward what is ahead, I am stayed by His faithful and very great grace.

Well then... I guess that's all for now, folks.

In His grace,
~ Hannah
_______________________________________________________________

When sins and fears prevailing rise
And fainting hope almost expires
Jesus, to Thee I lift my eyes
To Thee I breathe my soul’s desires

Are You not mine, my living Lord
And can my hope, my comfort die
Fixed on the everlasting Word
That Word which built the earth and sky...

Jesus, I lift my eyes
To Thee I breathe my soul’s desires
Oh Jesus, I lift my eyes
To Thee I breathe my soul’s desires

Here let my faith unshaken dwell
Immovable the promise stands
Not all the powers of earth or hell
Can e’er dissolve the sacred bands

Here oh my soul
Thy trust repose
If Jesus is forever mine
Not death itself, that last of foes
Can break a union so divine
Jesus, I lift my eyes…

- Anne Steele