Sunday night

So yesturday was just like every other sunday, Thats how it started out. Came home from church decided I was going to make chocolate chip cookies for C&C because we decided to live out loud and go hand out coffee to the homeless. Not a big deal right, they will gladly except because it was really windy and cold (because its saskatchewan). So I arrive early to help with making coffee and so there was John, Ashley, Lee and myself. My dorm and bible school would do this alot instead of coffee they would hand out sandwhiches. So I really didn't have any fear except the fact that if your white and walking around 20th and you cross paths with the wrong people they will beat you up for no reason. (its been known to all if you live in the city). So I was comfortable but alittle nervous. Met some people some told us there stories some just accepted the coffee and went on there way thankful for something to warm them. We also had toques and mitts. So seeing as there was 2 guys and 2 girls we split off. Ashley and John were a Team and Lee and I were a team.

Something was different that night, I felt uneasy the whole day like God was preparing me for something big. I haven't gotten this feeling in a while, I usually get it at camp when I'm counselling. So I was like alright whats going to happen, I prayed and kept on serving. Met a guy name Gustoff who just needed a break he was from Quebec, mean while this women walks by us, I knew that she wasn't alright. She just seemed scared and flustured. Later on I find out that Lee didn't notice her just me. So Gustoff got on his bus and we kept walking and talking about the guy we just met.

We turn around to go back because we hit a dead end, and out of this building the women comes out and walks our way. I offer her a cup of coffee, and instantly this women breaks down and cries, She composes herself and then asks do we know were the YWCA was. Lee wasn't of course familuar with the city yet. but me living her all my life new were it should be. She asks is it in walking distants I say no. I new that I should offer her a ride but is that were she really wants to go. So I prayed and quick prayer and we offered her a ride of course Lee comes to keep me safe my personal body guard. We drop her off and lee goes in to make sure that she is taken care of. But he can't go much farther because he is a male. So I go with her. This women is 30 years old and in one day lost every thing. Its taken me a while to process what happened last night but I know one thing that God is an awesome God. I don't want to use her name because I don't think that its relavent. I will never for get her. 6 months ago or so she had just gotten out of a 10 year abusive relationship, she is from a recerve up north past P.A. She has 5 children all in care because her home wasn't a safe enviroment. It was a wake up call to her. She has been trying to make a name for her self so that she can get her children back. Every word of her story breaks my heart.

She trusted in her friend that she met through one of her courses and her friend has a house out her and that she could stay with them. She woke up and they were gone her clothes and everything. GONE. No trace of it any were. She was a lone in a deserted house in a city she had no clue about. No food no warm clothes and the knowledge of Jesus. She was a born again believer. The land lord came and kicked her out. Were was she to go. She wondered the streets all day looking for the YWCA and prayed. Me and Lee helped her we were her answer. What if I decided not to go because I didn't believe that what we were doing wasn't going to matter to someone. Let me tell you something having that attitude is not a christian attitude. How can any one call themselves christians if all they do is go to church on sunday. What kind of mountains is there faith moving. We ignore them but we should be loving them. We should be filling there bellies and clothing them and giving them a place to sleep. This women trusted her friend and she had no idea what was going to happen. Why did he choose me. I don't know. I will never forget last night. How can I keep living the way I used to after an experience like that. What more can I do? I have prayed non stop for her. What if we weren't out? where would she be right know? would she have gotten help? This is a true story this is what happened to me and lee. What are you going to do?

The Vision

So I came across this poem or not sure if it is that. We talked about it in C&C one night and well its a thinker. It was found at a 24/7 prayer event on a wall, so here it is.

The vision

So this guy comes up to me and says "Whats the vision? What's the big idea?"

I open my mouth and words come out like this...
The vision?

The vision is JESUS - obsessivly, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.
The vision is an army of young people.
You see bones? I see an army. And they are free from materialism.


They laugh at 9-5 little prisons.
They could eat caviar in Monday and crusts on Tuesday.
They wouldn't even notice.
They know the meaning of the matrix, the way the west was won.
They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations.
They need no passport...
People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence.
They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying.
What is the vision?

The vision is holiness the hurts the eyes.
It makes children laugh and adults angry
It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars.
It scorns the good and strains for the best. It is dangerously pure.

Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation.
It loves people away for their suicide leaps, their satan games.
This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.
A million times a day its soldiers choose to loose that they might one day win the great
'Well done' of faithful sons and daughters.
Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don't need fame from
names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again:
"come on!"

And this is the sound of the underground
The whisper of history in the making
Foundations shaking
Revonlutionaries dreaming once again
Mystery is scheming in whispers
conspiracy is breathing...
This is the sound of the underground And the Army is descipl(in)ed.

Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms.
The tattoo on their back boasts "for me to live is Christ and to die is gain".
Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes.
Winners.
Martyrs.
Who can stop them ?
Can hormones hold them back?
Can failure succeed?
Can fear scare them or death kill them?
And the generation prays
like a dying man
with groans beyond talking
with warrior cries, sulphric tears and
with great barrow loads of laughter!
Waiting. Watching: 24-7 - 365.
Whatever it takes they will give:
Breaking the rules.
Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide.
Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs, laughing at labels, fasting essentials.

The advertisers cannot mould them.
Hollywood cannot hold them.
Peer pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries

They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive
inside.
On the outside?
They hardly care.
They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide.
Would they surrender their image or their popularity?
They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man on death row - guilty as hell.
A throne for an electric chair.


With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days,
they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.

Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.)
Their subconcious sings.
They had a blood transfusion with Jesus.
Their words make demons scream in shopping centres.
Don't you hear them coming?
Herold the weirdo's!
Summon the losers and the freaks.
Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes.
They walk tall and trees applaud,
Skyscrapers bow,
mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension.
Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of eden.
And this vision will be. IT will come to pass; it will come easily; it will come soon.
How do I know?
Because this is the longing of creation itself, the groaning of the Spirit, the very dream of God.
My tomorrow is his today.
Mydistant hope is his 3D.
And my feelbe, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking
great 'Amen!'
from countless angels, from hero's of the faith, from christ himself.
And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.
Guaranteed.