Smash The Mirror

    They say that time heals all wounds. And while Javen's accident last month was one of the most heart-wrenching moments for us, there truly are only physical wounds left to heal as a result of this situation. The Lord has kept us covered with that peace of His that really does transcend all understanding and comprehension. 

    There was so much to do the evening of the accident- cleaning out wounds, monitoring vital signs, keeping the injured from having to walk or do anything (we didn't want to risk them possibly damaging their spines any further), packing our camp up, satellite phone calls to America, keeping almost an entire village (literally) of concerned people from touching the men, and yet, His peace accompanied me through it all. As I helped my husband lay down in the tent that night to try and sleep, I prayed over him that he wouldn't wake up paralyzed or with any numbness in the morning. I couldn't believe that I was having to pray a prayer like that over him, but what he said to me at that moment gave me the grace that I needed to walk through it all. He said, "Did you see all of those people today? They got to see a miracle before their eyes. They saw us all live and walk away from the scene. Did you see them all praying for us? God is rocking this village. We have been asking that God would give us this WHOLE village with no one left out, and in one moment, He has done it. I would go through it all over again for them." All three men involved in the fall would say the same thing in the days that followed- they felt it was worth it for the village, and they would go through it all again for them. 

     As I heard Javen whisper those words in the tent that night, the scripture that rang out in my heart was from Philippians 1:29-

"For you have been given not only the privilege of trusting in Christ but also the privilege of suffering for Him."

I want to make it clear that I do not at all equate what we went through to the magnitude of the suffering the writer Paul had experienced or early-day Christians and even those currently being martyred around the world for His Name. But I rejoiced that night in the unexpected beauty of the promise in this scripture and it became MY promise from my God. There is privilege in the suffering. 

     Earlier that night as my injured husband had laid under the star-filled, African night sky, on a little wooden table (a table that had been covered in chicken poop earlier that day but was the flattest surface we could find out in the bush), I had watched the village- witches and witch doctors, children and adults alike- all cry out to a Savior. The One they had been hearing so much about for the last 4 years. The One who we claimed to be good- no matter what- even in the midst of suffering. The One who we declared to be filled with love. The One who we said cared about them and their every need. He was the One who they chose to cry out to that night in prayer. They didn't call on any ancestral spirits. They called on the Savior as they surrounded my husband. And hours later, as I lay next to Javen in the tent, listening to the sounds of the village discussing the day's events around their campfires, I did indeed feel privileged. He had trusted us to go through this situation, knowing we would still love Him in each terrifying moment. He allowed us to walk through "the valley of the shadow" before their eyes... and they had gotten to see faith in action. 

     Earlier that day, right after falling, the men who could just barely walk stood up in front of the worried crowd of villagers gathered at the accident scene, and asked if they could all pray together. Javen felt the stirring of the Holy Spirit to make the most of the moment, knowing it wouldn't last forever. While assembled in the circle praying, Javen remembered the story of Paul being stoned and dragged out of the city (Acts 14), probably feeling defeated, as well as feeling physical pain, yet still traveled the next day to Derbe to preach. He recounted to me his feelings, as the crowd was gathered together, he said, "As much as I was in pain and wanted nothing more than to go home, I knew that we would never have this moment again. The crowd had just seen a miracle before their eyes. It was obvious that anyone of us could have died moments ago. As I was falling, the thought had crossed my mind that I might die; yet, I had no fear of death because of what I have. None of us know when we will die, and I wanted to give them the opportunity to be ready."  Javen shared the scripture with the crowd from James 4:14- "Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes." He shared that he and the two other men were a living testimony standing before them of God's grace, knowing that none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. Each person gathered at that job site was given the opportunity to place their "mist", their quickly vanishing life, in the hands of the Savior.

     Recently, I was sharing with my Dad over Skype of the struggles of living in a culture so quick to betray and stab one another in the back- seemingly much faster than we do overall in our culture. "Friend" is a much looser term here than I am used to. I expressed that the temptation to allow it to get the best of you is real. It pressures you to close your heart to friendship, not allowing anyone to get too "close", thereby protecting your emotions. This, of course, is the opposite of what we are here to do-- be love, unreservedly, with no holds barred.

      ...And then, he said something profound, holding significant truth for us, especially in this past month of our lives. He said that we are not meant to be mirrors, merely a reflection of God's love upon the world, but we are created to be conduits of His love flowing directly to the people around us. It's a lot easier to simply hold up a mirror, than to allow ourselves to be an unobstructed channel for Him to flow through. Being a mirror holder requires no surrender; therefore, there is no suffering. That's why there is "privilege in the suffering", because in your darkest personal moment, you have allowed the Savior to flow through you, completely unhindered, to those around you. 

     This realization makes me want to smash every "mirror" in my life... every area of my heart where I have abdicated my place as a conduit of His love simply because it was "easier" to live like that. The seasons in life where it would be painless to say that I'm called, rather than act out my calling. The moments where it would be less demanding to just talk about stepping out in faith rather than jumping off the spiritual cliff into the mystery of trusting the Savior's arms to catch me.

There is worth in the suffering.
There is joy in being His conduit.

We are privileged to smash our mirrors.

"He who believes in Me [cleaves to and trusts in and relies on Me] as the Scripture has said, from his innermost being shall flow [continuously] springs and rivers of living water." John 7:38

"For you have been given not only the privilege of trusting in Christ but also the privilege of suffering for Him." Philipians 1:29

Javen's Accident Update

   

  One month ago, Javen, his dad and another missionary were in an accident in the bush. Some of the men fell from 13 feet high and others from 19 feet, as they were nailing trusses onto the church they were building. After hitting the ground, the truss that took 10 men to carry (because it was so heavy), fell on top of them, burying the men from their chests down. Javen, unfortunately, landed on his feet with all of his weight on his left heel (he is still having difficulty putting weight on it), before falling onto his tailbone. His head landed 6 inches from a huge rock. His leg was then impaled by a nail as the pieces of the truss rained down on them, and the other missionary working alongside of them also fell on top of him. Steve (Javen's dad) fell on his back, slamming the back of his head onto the ground. They suffered scrapes and bruises, but miraculously, all involved were able to walk away from the scene.

     It took us two days to travel home out of the bush (on very bumpy, dirt roads) to get them checked out. They had x-rays on their backs, necks and Javen's foot. Steve also flew to Dar Es Salaam to get an MRI (yes, you literally have to get on a plane to get to a place with an MRI scanner), due to the concern that he had a possible fracture in his neck after seeing the x-rays. There was not a single broken bone, but they did find bulging discs. Doctors urged Steve to go home to the States to receive therapy for his neck and ordered Javen to completely rest with no work, no travelling on bumpy roads, just absolute rest until his back gets better. Unfortunately, I don't think that he could do any of those things right now, even if he wanted to. He is taking a muscle relaxer/pain reliever that helps but still has to lay down a lot. He is not the type of person to baby himself when he is sick, still staying up half the night to work on his truck, even if he has a fever. Rarely a day goes by that I don't seem him planning out, piecing together or improving his latest project or helping someone else work on theirs. I know that he must be in a lot of pain for me to have not seen him working on anything for a month now. I so look forward to the day when our property is again filled with the noises of hammering and sawing and flashing with the glow of the welding machine. Yet, despite all of this, we are so grateful for every bit of healing that he has already experienced, and so thankful for everyone's prayers that have carried us through.

Praise Report: The villagers told us that this moment is going to go down in their history and in the history of the entire area. They said that every time they look at that building, it will serve as a reminder that God saved the lives of the men who fell- all of them miraculously walking away from the scene.

To hear further testimony read our post: "Smash The Mirror"