Feeding the hungry & being filled

Rice, potatoes, curry and bananas were on the menu this afternoon.  Once again, Grace and I were blessed to join in on the feeding the poor outreach.  The air was filled with the smell of spices, so strong they burnt your eyes and after a few hours of packing steamy, sticky, starchy rice into bags my hands were covered in a tacky paste-like goo.  Then there was the PILE of rice to sort through.  Have you ever picked tiny stones out of mountains of rice on a black floor?  Challenging. What's the point of all this back story?  As the hours ticked by, I felt my flesh getting ticked off.  Confession: I struggled to stay joyful as I batted away tears, no, not from sadness, but from mounds of onions being sliced right next to me.  I was sitting on the marble floor, my back was hurting, my neck was stiff .  Then all of a sudden something else started cooking but it wasn't in a pot.  My heart began to grow very loud, "How on earth can you complain"?  I'll tell you, NO one can work as hard as an Indian woman.  They are strong, determined and don't complain. It was humbling. 

I soon found my joy and whistled while I worked, much to my sister's dismay.  I knew all of my "discomfort"  was NOTHING compared to the blessing I was about to witness.  As we finished and packed up the autos, my energy was pulsating.  I didn't know what to expect or what I'd see.

Grace holding the goods as we make our way into the streets



As we stepped out of the auto, I heard one of the team members ask who wanted to preach.  Without hesitating, I opened my mouth and sure enough, He filled it.  I put a demand on His authority and His power poured out over that dry, desperate ground.  The crowds gathered 50 or more and before I knew it, we were surrounded.  I don't recall half of what I said, or even for how long I spoke all I know is that I took dominion over that place.  Not a sound was heard, no distractions, just wide eyes and as I spoke about a love so powerful even death can not stop it I saw hands begin to open. I asked "Who wants to receive this love?"  The response was overwhelming.  I didn't have to mention Heaven and Hell.  These people LIVE in daily hell.  As I spoke, it hit me so hard that the mass majority have NEVER been told they are loved, or experienced anything close.  I must have said "love" 20 times, I just couldn't express it enough.  When you see these people, you know their lives have been nothing short of one horrific event after another and I imagine many of them hope to die, maybe even pray for it to end their suffering.  Little do they know that leaving this earthly misery will only begin a type of hell they could never have imagined.

Sorry.

 I know this is abrasive.
Harsh.
Hurtful.

As I've stated in my previous entries, the power of God is THE ONLY power to pierce their darkness and offer a hope and a light.

I thanked Him for this opportunity.  To feel discomfort, humility, fear, pain, sorrow even embarrassment for my own comforts and luxuries my life affords.  When you get mad at sin, you feel the weight of grace as never before and security in a Father's loving promises. 

"He who shuts his ears to the cries of the poor will be ignored in his own time of need." -Prov 21:13

"Lord, when did I see you hungry or thirsty........?"

"......whatever you do to the least of these......"

"....you did for ME."

"Love your neighbor as yourself" -Matt 22:39