My dad is getting married on Sunday.

Courtney and I are leaving at noon (in NightWatch time, this is absurdly early) to drive to Indiana for the wedding.

Prayers are appreciated.

I would write more, but I need to pack and get to sleep… with a quickness.

Everything is changing. But nothing is changing.

Anyone who has really talked to me since I returned from training can bear witness to this fact: I have a lot to say about those four days.

My first impressions about CRI were correct. Sean Malone was articulating the vision that was actively abiding within my own heart. I was hearing an answer to questions I had been asking for years.

As it turns out, though… CRI was answering a lot more questions than I had initially perceived.

All through training, the Lord was continually speaking to me. Dots were connecting. Unanswered questions throughout my life were finding answers. Seemingly unrelated desires and burdens were coming together. Riddles were beginning to make sense. I was beginning to make sense. My longings, my gifts, my passions, my interests, seasons of training, seasons of preparation, things imparted and invested in my life, dreams, confusing desires, blurry beginnings of vision… Things were coming together.

Sitting in class, I would suddenly be overwhelmed with the Lord’s presence. It didn’t seem to matter what was being taught. The Lord would begin to speak to me. He would highlight the simplest phrase from the present teaching and cause it to reverberate within me. He would bring to remembrance the things that He had spoken at various times in my life. He would give meaning to something from my past and connect it to what I was doing in that moment. He would remind me of something I had just said in the break before our teaching and bring clarity to my own words.

I cried… a lot.

I saw all of the little pieces coming into alignment and I saw it taking shape. My eyes were opened to the foundation that He had been laying in my life. From there, He began to show me blueprints of what He wanted to build on top of that foundation.

I say this a lot, but it is remarkably true: HIS LEADERSHIP IS PERFECT.

Fully aware of the strength of my statement, I cannot pretend otherwise: It really feels like my whole life has been leading up to this.

Everything is changing. But nothing is changing.

Nothing is changing. I am not shifting directions. I have already been moving in this direction. I didn’t pick up anything new. I just got to see a glimpse of the way that everything I have already been carrying in my heart fits together. I’m not pursuing something different. I am simply continuing forward, toward the things that I have already been pursuing.

I am still an intercessory missionary. I am still on the NightWatch. My primary occupation is still prayer.

Everything is changing. But nothing is changing.

Everything is changing. There is a now clear path. Obedience has become a very active thing. I have to respond. It’s time.

He spoke it again and again. He settled it in my heart. And then He set someone in my path to prophesy it over me. It’s time to release the things that have been stored up inside of me. I can’t hide anymore. I can’t keep it locked up anymore. (And there will always be enough for me and my crown. His leadership is perfect.)

It’s time to move forward. It’s time to take risks. It’s time to walk in the grace He has given to me. It’s time to offer myself to the body.

I believe that I have something to give. I have something to give. And it’s time.

I really need prayer right now.

1. My cold.
Almost immediately after I returned from training with CRI, I was hit with one of the wretched cold/flu things that are going around.

In an instant, everything I was responding to and following through with, in regards to CRI, was brought to a screeching halt. My application for the chaplaincy team was put on hold. Continuing to read and pray through the training manual was more than I had the energy to do and it went back in my bag for a week. I was so out of it that I didn’t have the mental capacity to even continue to process all that the Lord had been speaking to me for those last few days.

Right now, I am on the road to recovery and overjoyed. I am a functional human being again. My brain works. I have been able to go to the prayer room. But I am still very tired, my head is still very congested, my throat is still very sore, and my cough is easily provoked. I have had to rest a lot. I have repeatedly woken up feeling wretched and been forced to cancel the first few hours of my day’s activities. So… amazing improvement, but I am still coming out of that one.

2. My knee.
On the last night of training, my knee started to feel kind of funny and I woke up that next day knowing that it could easily lock again. (Something that happened frequently, a long time ago, and is usually quite painful.) Things definitely weren’t right in my knee. I received prayer, though, and my knee was fine all day. UNTIL we got on the bus to go home. That’s when it started up again. My first night back in the prayer room, I could barely walk.

Since then, it has been a bit of a roller coaster. Every time I get prayer, it improves in a notable way for some length of time. But when I think we’re finally done, it will suddenly flare up again. Like just it did a little while ago… when it started to hurt like heck as I was throwing up. And that brings us to number three…

3. My irrepressible need to vomit.
A few hours ago, it became apparent that I was probably going to throw up. I was really nauseous and my head was throbbing with this really weird pain. (I’d had a headache for hours, which I was mostly attributing to my failure to drink enough water for the first part of the day.) I hydrated away, but the headache was not easing up. And then I realized I was probably about to throw up.

I went back to the bathroom, ready to cooperate with what my body was doing. But then I decided that I just couldn’t handle it.  So, I took some of that lovely pink stuff, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and tried to… talk myself into feeling better(?). I felt miserable, but I thought I might make it. And I did… for a while.

And then I threw up. A lot.

I eventually stopped it… somehow. For one thing, my knee was in a lot of pain and the whole vomiting thing seemed to be making it worse. But more than that… I couldn’t do it anymore. It was not a pleasant experience. Throwing up isn’t usually a lot of fun, but this was awful. It was painful. It was emotionally upsetting (hard to explain). And it didn’t seem to be getting any better.

Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure I’m not done. And oh how I am dreading it.

I hate throwing up, but I can do it if I need to. I often feel a lot better after I do. And sometimes we don’t have a choice. (Amanda can tell you all about the incredible projectile vomit incident almost two years ago. That woman is an amazing friend… with an impressively solid stomach and a persevering servant’s heart.)

But right now… I don’t know if I can handle it. This has been one of my worst vomiting experiences. (The projectile thing is a far more interesting story and I was REALLY sick… but it was somehow a much more bearable experience to actually… live.)

So… I am writing this plea for prayer.

I cannot state strongly enough how powerful and significant the four days were that I spent training with CRI. Things are shifting in my life. The Lord has issued some really clear and strong invitations, and I am saying yes to him. But that is proving VERY difficult right now. (I did manage to press through the headache and nausea to finish my chaplaincy team application tonight.)

I’m exhausted. And I’m really not interested in having any other issues materialize with my body right now. My knee was sufficiently obnoxious. My cold was more than enough. And the way my whole body feels right now, as I wait in dread of the probably-inevitable continuation of a really horrendous vomiting experience… absolutely not okay.

I have things to do right now. And the Lord has been walking me through some fairly intense heart issues in the last couple of days. Sickness and pain and more sickness are not fitting in very well with all of that.

So… ’tis time for all the junk to stop. Please agree with me in prayer!

Two days in a row, my roommate and I have received unexpected packages from a delightful woman in Pennsylvania. So much fun!

It has made me think of what a huge impact those unexpected little things can have. It totally made my day… both days! (That, and the fact that I was finally beginning to recover from my cold. My brain works again and everything! Just need to get my throat, head, and weary body to fully catch up.)

I have been receiving far fewer surprise packages in the mail since my mom passed away. So it means A LOT to receive something in the mail “just because.”

I’m also realizing that several birthdays passed while I was busy being sick and fuzz-brained. Sadness. To everyone (I know and love) who has numerically aged in the last few days, I love you a lot and I am glad that you were born! I just got derailed by my colision with the sickness train. (I blame it on the schedule change and then four days of running around in the cold for CRI training. My immune system didn’t have a chance. Sleep is really important!)

Anyway… Mrs. I, yet again, you have brightened my life considerably. I am so blessed to have been introduced to you and your incredible heart via Blogland.

Speaking of meeting people from Blogland, I wanted to give a quick shout-out to Jim from CRI training. (I’m pretty sure I promised myself to never use that term, “shout-out,” when I first became acquainted with it. Sigh… I wonder what similar terms I may lose my resolve in resisting. This one doesn’t bother me now, but I know that it did at one time. I sincerely hope that I do not lose my distaste for some of the things that I presently refuse to say.) Random fact, you have the same name as my phone. Well, the Jim part, at least. I think I just assumed that my phone received my last name when it was adopted.

I think CRI training was the least unsettling place to meet a total stranger who has read many of my thoughts… who has seen some of the deep things of my heart. So… way to not be creepy. Sometimes I forget that there are real people who read this thing that I have never met. I like meeting the people who read my blog. (For example, Mrs. I was a total win. She’s even more delightful in person than she is in comment form.) But, truth be told, it would probably freak me out if a random person approached me outside the prayer room and knew my name… and my life.

Bearing gifts might help. I’ll see if I can get a list going to enable such gift-giving introductions. (OK, actual fact… I am creating a Christmas/birthday/everyday wish list. It will consist of all of the gear that I need to deploy with CRI, or to do further training. All I want for Christmas is the ability to easily leave town on short notice to love and serve people in the midst of crisis. Bonus to that Christmas wish: it might also enable the reintroduction of camping to my already-pretty-fantastic life. And that would be… awesome. In any case, that list might make it onto my blog… in case people are interested in being a part of my future work with CRI. We shall see.)

Oh, look at that! I still know how to ramble!

Well, hopefully, there are some (somewhat more coherent) blog posts coming in the near future about CRI. I have a lot to say about the training. The Lord had a lot to say during training. I just have to find the time to reign in all of those words.

I’m going to publish this without rereading it. Probably a mistake, since I have just been babbling on. And… since I have been typing the whole thing on my phone. But I’m just going to go with it. Freedom from perfectionism. That’s what we’ll call it.

Thanks again, Mrs. I!

Before I left for CRI training, I wrote this outline that was intended to turn into an actual post, when I had time to write it. I probably spent all of two minutes typing this list out, so there is probably some redundancy. It basically just lists out some of what I believed I could bring and be in the midst of crisis. So… here it is, the post that I never had time to write:

I perceive my role to be fairly simple.  I expect that a lot of my ideas will be refined, once I actually go through training. But this post is just a simple overview of what I believe my part is. Why I am doing this.

Anchored in hope and rooted and grounded in love. Secure in my identity, knowing God’s delight in me.

Lean on the Holy Spirit.

Out of the place of intimacy, communion.

Listen and obey.

Love… in the midst of pain and trial.

Holy Spirit. Confidence. Rest. Steadfastness.

Peace. In the midst of chaos and uncertainty.

Serve people.

Love people.

Commune with the Lord.

Make myself available. Follow the Holy Spirit.

Lead. Have answers. Be able to take action. Give people confidence.

Speak truth. Light of hope.

Isaiah 58. Let’s just pause for a moment and look at Isaiah 58.

“Is this not the fast which I choose,
To loosen the bonds of wickedness,
To undo the bands of the yoke,
And to let the oppressed go free
And break every yoke?
Is it not to divide your bread with the hungry
And bring the homeless poor into the house;
When you see the naked, to cover him;
And not to hide yourself from your own flesh?
Then your light will break out like the dawn,
And your recovery will speedily spring forth;
And your righteousness will go before you;
The glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;
You will cry, and He will say, ‘Here I Am’
If you remove the yoke from your midst,
The pointing of the finger and speaking wickedness,
And if you give yourself to the hungry
And satisfy the desire of the afflicted,
Then your light will rise in darkness
And your gloom will become like midday.
And the LORD will continually guide you,
And satisfy your desire in scorched places,
And give strength to your bones;
And you will be like a watered garden,
And like a spring of water whose waters do not fail.”
(Isaiah 58:6-11, New American Standard Bible)

I can’t claim to really understand most of the book of Isaiah. It has intimidated me for most of my life. Though I have definitely been feeling an itch to study it, lately. (More, Lord. Help, Lord!)

I am not in a position to give a stunning exposition of the words of this chapter… or any of the book. But a few things do seem rather clear to me in this passage.

The Lord is answering Israel’s accusing question: Why is He not acting in response to their fasts? Why are they not seeing prosperity and justice?

His answer. Stop oppressing people and serving yourselves. Stop striving with one another and exalting yourselves. Walk out justice. Care for the poor and the hurting. Liberate the oppressed. Help the needy and the afflicted.

This is what God requires of His people. He loves justice. The church should do more than ask God to make things right. They should do their part in bringing forth justice.

That, in essence, is what I believe CRI does. They serve the afflicted. They give of themselves. They pour themselves out to help those who are hurting and in need. And they have an incredible open door to bring the light of true hope into the midst of devastation and tragedy.

It’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

The summer of 2005 was nearing an end and I was about to make the move to Kansas City, where I would be joining full-time staff at the International House of Prayer. I had gone through the FITN internship in the two previous summers and had just spent a month of that summer in Kansas City, longing to fully join the ministry. My heart was full of joy and anticipation, finally released to join the beloved NightWatch community.

And then Hurricane Katrina hit.

I was not in an area directly impacted by the brunt of the storm. However… buses full of New Orleans evacuees soon found themselves in shelters throughout Texas. In Wylie, our National Guard Armory was opened as a shelter for a little over one hundred refugees. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my life was about to change.

I jumped at the opportunity to volunteer. Looking back, I honestly don’t know why. Perhaps it was the three summers that I had just spent in such a remarkably-set-apart time for prayer. When you nightly talk to the Lord for at least six hours in the middle of the night, your heart begins to change. I guess I always loved serving. But I didn’t really consider myself to be a remarkably compassionate person. In any case, I knew I needed to get over there.

The following three weeks of my life changed me. The impact was so profound that it has only grown in intensity over the four years that followed.

Initially, my mom and I volunteered together. I am so grateful for those memories of serving with her. What a fantastic way to spend some of my last moments with my mom before moving so far away from my parents’ house! And what valuable memories to have of my mom, whom I lost only a year and a half after those days at the shelter!

We worked the night shift at the shelter, 10 PM to 7 AM. (Eventually, I began to stay until about 9 AM to eat breakfast, at the urging of the chef, one of the shelter residents.) My mom and I were always night people. It was a natural fit for us. I believe it was our second night there when my mom became the shelter manager. And as soon as health issues prevented her from continuing to go down for such long and difficult shifts, I stepped into the role of shelter manager.

I had absolutely no experience and no clue what I was doing. I had some basic leadership and administrative skills… and a whole lot of help from the Holy Spirit.

My responsibilities and tasks were fairly simple. I delegated. I cleaned toilets. I checked residents and visitors in and out of the shelter. I answered phones and hunted for people when their family members had the great fortune of finding the shelter where their loved ones had landed. I made sure things were getting done and that information was passed on to the right people. I helped the night shift people find caffeine. I listened. Really… I mostly just sat and enjoyed conversation and games with the shelter residents, volunteers, EMTs, police officers, National Guard, and firefighters.

My most difficult daily task was to scrounge up enough volunteers to stretch over the night shift. The glory expectations of people who thought they were going to be hailed as heroes quickly faded. And the people who were still willing and eager to truly serve still needed to carry on with the responsibilities of their daily lives. After the first week, it was difficult to find enough people.

I think my most SIGNIFICANT activity was sitting outside for Cynthia’s smoking breaks. Each night, we would go outside for her last cigarette before bed. If she awakened in the middle of the night, we’d head out again. And as soon as she woke up every morning, out we would go. I simply listened and loved her. (I must admit that Cynthia’s departure was difficult for me, though I was overjoyed that she was leaving because her family had found her. She was going to be with people who knew and loved her. And they could grieve together, having lost loved ones in the disaster.)

I had never come so close to the suffering of others. I had never really been touched by pain and injustice like I was in those days. The people I sat down to listen to had suffered through things that I would not even write about here. (Among them, the horrors of the Superdome. Violence, murder, lust, and greed abounding… the natural outcome when man feels incredible pain and fear and then finds opportunity to pursue and express the wicked desires of a heart full of darkness.)

Just thinking about their stories makes my stomach turn and fills my heart with great heaviness and longing for the return of the Judge. I had never seen pain like that in someone’s eyes. I had never heard terror like that in someone’s voice.

I didn’t do anything heroic in those days. I was just there. I smiled. I served in simple ways. I listened. And somehow, that was enough. Somehow, my weak actions were powerful. Somehow, my willingness and my “yes” overcame my lack of knowledge. The Lord used my simple, weak life to impact others in a real way. And it was so easy (though painful). So natural.

And my heart was more alive than ever before. I encountered the Lord in that place of serving.

Something was very right in those days. I was depending upon the Holy Spirit and loving and serving others. I was giving of myself. Things were as they should be.

I also experienced unique grace and boldness. When things would start to pick up in the morning and it was time to make things happen, I would have these crazy waves of confidence sweep over me and nothing could get in my way or stop me from doing what needed to be done. It was actually one of the guys in the National Guard who pointed it out to me, the way I would shift into confidence mode when I needed it. I don’t think I believed him at the time, when he told me that one day that was just going to be my normal mode of existence.

My move to Kansas City was significantly delayed by my time at the shelter. On my average day, I would get home in the morning and then sleep until it was time to get up for work (evening shifts) at a maternity clothing store. And then I would head home (if there was time) to change before heading straight over to the shelter again. Not a lot of time for packing or support-raising.

My days off of work (and the two or so days that I took off from the shelter) were few. And because of my refusal to watch things fall apart due to the flakiness of other people, I had at least one occasion where I stayed up into the afternoon to take care of something for one of the residents. (Sad story. The expected ride didn’t show up. No one willing was able and no one able was willing… except for the girl who had been up all night and the WYLIE FIRE CHIEF. I’m not going to lie… I was definitely disappointed in people that day… full of anger and judgment.) In any case, I was pretty wiped out and in need of rest in the time that I did have off.

Without a doubt, though, the delay in my long-awaited move to Kansas City was absolutely worthwhile for three of the most impacting weeks of my life.

Seeds were planted within me. And there has been a growing discontent ever since. I am not satisfied to sit back and do nothing. I love my occupation (prayer). And I know it is the most valuable thing that I can do with my time. But I have hands and feet, too. I have the ability to serve people… to express love… to partner with the Lord in bringing justice and comfort to the hurting. And that longing has been stirring within me for some time.  The desire to walk out the activity that accompanies a life of fasting and prayer. It is difficult to commit yourself to participate in 24/7 prayers for justice without the Lord awakening within you a desire to participate in 24/7 WORKS of justice.

My heart has been especially heavy with this in the last two years. I have wept because of it. I have repeatedly asked the Lord about it. In fact, ummm… I think I have even accused the Lord about it a couple of times. (Sometimes my impatience questions His leadership. He handles my foolish heart well, though, and He knows how to bring correction in kindness.) A few of my friends can definitely attest to my frustration with the whole thing, with this lack in my life.

So, after years of longing for it and asking how and what and where and WHEN… I feel like I am beginning to see the thing that I have been looking for.

A few weeks ago, we had a very stirring message at our weekly FCF service. (If you are interested, you can buy the MP3 for $2.99 here. I think it is well-worth the money and the time.) Sean Malone, the director of Crisis Response International (CRI), shared and introduced his ministry, which is now becoming more officially connected with the International House of Prayer.

If you haven’t already heard of CRI, I strongly recommend checking out their website: www.criout.com

In summary, CRI is a disaster response ministry. Borrowing a sentence from their website: “Our vision is to train an army of end-time, prophetic, mercy missionaries, mobilized in the spirit of night and day prayer, to release great demonstrations of power, reach the harvest in crisis and rebuild cities on the Kingdom of God. “

Yes… that is a pretty loaded sentence. I am fluent in IHOP-ese and I STILL have a hard time keeping up with that sentence. Rather than unpacking each of those terms here, though, I seriously recommend listening to the message. He breaks it all down and gives a very clear summary of what CRI is all about. (And he tells stories. Who doesn’t love a good story?)

I had multiple people tell me that they were thinking of me during this message. And it makes sense that they were.

When I heard the message, what I experienced was more than being stirred by a great vision. When he cast the vision, it fully resonated with something that I have been carrying in my heart for years. It was an incredible moment. This thing that I have been weeping about for years was beginning to take shape. My own vision found greater clarity and I sensed the beginning stages of something I have carried in prayer finally coming to fruition.

In a few days, I will be heading into the woods with CRI to do a four-day training. I am more excited than I can articulate. I am also fairly nervous. It is a sober but hopeful expectation. I know that I am going to be REALLY stretched. But I feel the Lord in it and I trust His leadership. Please pray for me. The training will be taking place October 8-11.

I have more to say about all of this than I could fairly put in one post, so I will be writing a series of posts about CRI. If it’s any indication, I wrote 14 pages about this in my journal the other night. And training hasn’t even started yet.

If you are interested in hearing the message but don’t have the money (or feel sufficiently MP3-savvy), let me know. We might be able to work something out.

In a recent post, I talked a little about my migraine headaches and shared a testimony of the Lord healing me in the midst of an especially ferocious migraine.

Well… I wanted to share a quick update on that.

It has now been five weeks, and I have not had a single migraine since the one that was healed. Given the frequency of those wretched headaches in the months before then… that’s really good for me.

I have had several really bad headaches, but they were definitely different from a migraine. I’m still praying for an end to those… but I am grateful for what has happened.

Still living in the hope that I will never have another migraine…

I find myself incapable of blogging, at the moment. The reason? I simply have too much to say.

We, the International House of Prayer in Kansas City, celebrated our 10th anniversary last weekend. 10 years of 24/7 worship and prayer seems like so much… and so little.

As part of the celebration, Mike took us back through the prophetic history. Mike simply shared stories from the last few decades about how the Lord was giving vision for this ministry (really, this movement) and beginning to ready the hearts of our leaders to keep a growing body of mostly 20-somethings centered in the Word and in the heart standards of Intercession, Holiness, Offerings to the Poor, and the Prophetic.

Every time I listen to the prophetic history, it stirs me. Never has it gripped me and shaken with the intensity of this last week. I also felt like I was getting a lot of correction from the Lord as we heard the stories and were given exhortations. Correction is always painful. However, I must also say that I am feeling the Lord’s kindness, in His correction, and that my heart is greatly encouraged.

At the end of the celebration, we committed ourselves to 24/7 works of justice to accompany our 24/7 prayers for justice. This means a much greater emphasis on evangelism and on serving our community. I am so grateful for this. It has been a growing longing within my heart, and I am overwhelmed to see it begin to come to fruition in our community. I have been weeping over this in a distinct way for about a year and a half.

No simple words exist to describe the major shift that is happening in my life right now. I feel like this is such a critical time for me. I can no longer live the way I was living before. I am feeling a greater weight of responsibility. I am also feeling a greater grace to walk in the risky things that the Lord has set before me.

Even in the last week, things have been happening to me in the place of prayer that I have experienced only rarely. And I am finding a boldness growing within me that I never imagined was possible, before.

My heart is full of hope. My heart is also very heavy, as the Lord has been sharing His emotions with me and causing me to feel the pain of injustice. In particular, there is an unsaved man that I have been carrying in my heart this week. Never have I felt such a “burden” of intercession.

I am also getting ready to do training with a ministry called Crisis Response International. I was originally planning on writing about three posts on this alone.

So, as I find time and language, I will begin to give expression to the many things that are shifting within me… and shifting around me. I could write pages about each of the above sentences.

I really encourage you to check out the videos and audio from our 10th anniversary celebration. I will post in more detail, recommending specific videos that are especially meaningful to me. But, if you want to go check it out, everything is available online at www.ihop.org.

More to come!