Meet the Author's Author

Meet the Author's Author
Live for Jesus! That's what matters! That you see the light in me and come along! :)

Monday, July 01, 2013

Pain in the Night

People have posted and I meant to the night after OYAN ended, but stuff happened.

Y'know, like stuff does.

And now I'm curled up for half an hour, trying to think exactly how to say the stuff in my heart.

Friday night, June 21st, ended OYAN Summer Workshop 2013. I'd gone back to my dorm to put some stuff down before coming back, and missed the prayer over Mr S.

As I wandered back around the outskirts of the group praying and singing, eyes closed and tears streaming, Jonny came over to me, pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. I crumbled against him and started crying.

When I finally looked up as the crush of bodies increased, the OYAN people were three deep around me. I was nose to nose with Marybeth, also weeping, with Kristin's expressive chocolate eyes fixed on me with a sad, trembly smile on her lips.

This place isn't just any place. This place is our home because we are all there. No, not even that. We could all be there and have no bond or unity of spirit. This place isn't even home. These people are home. Because God is there.

I watched God descend that night.
I saw girls with long hair, ankle length skirts and loose t-shirts linking arms with girls in tighter, modern tops and shorts with cut, dyed hair, eyes closed and singing praise, praying together.

Guys (and I'm naming Gunnar, Jonny and Reuben here - I have so much respect for you three, sorry to anyone else I missed) gripped girls' hands in prayer and held them while they cried - and were unafraid to cry themselves.

I watched barriers crumble and denominations collapse the walls that night, and the fruition of our prayer group's and individual, broken hearted pleas come true.

I've grown in the past two years to dislike churches more and more, because of the cliques, because of the lack of acceptance if you don't become a member, because of the feeling of being a constant stranger, because of weak teaching (in some), because of denominational splits and how people find that more important than worshipping God in Christ, in Love. I had more in union of spirit with that group of young people before God than I've had in church in months.

God broke the barriers and united us in praise, in grief, in love and in worship.

It was a miracle. You know why? Because I'd been praying with the prayer group all that week, and still felt...something...was lacking. When I held my weeping daughter in my arms late into the night, and broke down myself at yet another gathering - we knew God was there, hearing us pray and cry and worship.

Friday morning, I skipped a session and went outside, curled up on the grass and broke down in tears like I haven't been able to for months, eyes and nose streaming. I'm so glad God makes our cries coherent.
I prayed for OYAN, for the guys with the broken hearts and souls I knew I couldn't fix, for those rivalries and factions, for the unity we have. I prayed for relationships, for personal stuff. For direction for the young leaders. And I prayed for God to come down.

And that night, I watched Him do it. That wasn't the first miracle in two weeks either.

As I was about to board the aeroplane for France, I wrapped up talking with my Mom. As you may know, our financial situation is not the best, and she hadn't got enough money for petrol. She asked me to pray that God would supply her with £50 by the end of the day, and I prayed with her on the phone. Then I suddenly remembered a £20 note I'd left her in the bedroom, which she went to get as we ended the call.
She rang me back as I was walking towards the entrance to the plane; "SIAN! I just want you to know that there's £40 there!"

I'm kinda lost for words at this point. I just want you to know that God hears you. Hears every cry you make whether you think He does or not. He may not answer the way you want but oh yeah, He hears.
Part of my tears that night were healing. Because I prayed until I had run out of words that morning, and wasn't really expecting the answer. And then I watched Him answer out of Heaven and felt His presence amongst us that night.

Want to know something?
Home isn't where your heart is. Home is where God is. And that's the safest place to put your heart.

In Christ,
Mademoiselle Siân