Haiti & The Lofthouse

Last night at House of Prayer, we all gathered at The LOFTHOUSE. The parking lot was dark. The rooms were darker, and empty. About 30 of us had to squint to recognize each other as we wandered around and looked at that big vacant building. We moved into a circle, gathered around 3 candle lanterns, and prayed for what God is doing. He has given Community a new heart for the homeless, hungry, and needy. And slowly we see a hopeful vision opening up for people who need transitional housing here in Teller County. Maybe He will bring heat, and electricity, light and hope to the Lofthouse. We stood in the dark, and asked for it to be so.

Maybe God wants us to serve in that way... renovating one Lofthouse room at a time and following his lead in this daunting possibility. Or, maybe He will use our new Storehouse team to lead us into how to serve the homeless in other ways. We are all waiting to see what happens next. Whatever the outcome, last night was a great field trip for House of Prayer. The focus was on what the LoftHouse has come to represent, and our desire to trust God to lead us out into desperate places & transform us. We are watching for the ways God will provide for our needy & homeless friends, through us.

That was the focus at House of Prayer. And I want to encourage you to pray the same. This is a collective experience. Prayer keeps our eyes open and our hearts expectant. As a Community, we are all witnessing the Spirit of Jesus Christ's movement in mighty and uncharted ways.

But, last night's awesome focus missed something even bigger. After the gathering, I was walking out to my car with Scott Stearman. He reminded me something. He was holding a global picture of our community and handed it to me. Scott was thinking about Haiti, in ruins after this week's devastating earthquake. He reminded me that our Christ Body stretches to Port au Prince, and our brothers and sisters there are weeping, and digging. You can just check the news to get better facts than I can offer. Clearly, Haiti is now buried in a historic catastrophe. I can't quote Scott perfectly, but this is roughly what I remember he said:

"Right now, under the same dark sky, during this same night, we have family that are digging to find their children. They have bloody knuckles, and bleeding hands. They are leaning down and listening for cries or screams that will help them locate their loved ones, lost in the ruin. Right now..."

Last night, as we were praying in warmth and safety, and in such earnest about our own little tiny piece of rescue here in Teller County, a larger crisis was playing out ... and it involved us, our extended God family. A different part of our clan are wondering what to do next -- digging tirelessly to save people who are buried and clinging to a thin thread of life. Thousands of heartbeats have stopped. Under the rubble, bodies are going cold. And yet, the few that are living are still digging, searching, giving their lives to save the lost.

Scott reminded me that something bigger is going on. And we need to approach prayer, always with a larger view that goes beyond our little mountain town. We need to approach our Jesus Following life that way. No matter how big our next step may seem, we have family that are being called to lay down their lives in ways that we can't fathom.

Thinking about Haiti's recovery made the daunting details of the Lofthouse shrink.
God's got it. He does.

Back in the parking lot, Scott left me with this. He pointed to what we should expect. Again, I am recklessly paraphrasing. He said something like:

"I am praying for the stories to will come back to us. The ones about that one baby that was found even after he stopped crying. Or, the wife that was saved because of some unexpected miracle... we all need those stories."

We do. We live for the stories of rescue, don't we? That's what keeps us going when everything looks hopeless. We are energized and inspired to press on when we hear about the redemption in the ruin. Even if it's just one ... one saved out of thousands. Those are the stories we live for. We lean in close and watch, we hope for them. Because those are the stories we are being asked to live out, in big and small ways, all over the world.

Our heroic and traumatized family in Haiti reminds us ...
We are all called to dig, and bleed, and search for those whose beating hearts are about to stop. We are called to cry out and give our lives for people who are lost in rubble and ruin.
We are called to be
Light in Darkness.
Bread in Famine.
Water in the Desert.
Life in Death.
Jesus in this World.

Pray for our tiny little part in rescue here in Woodland Park.
Pray for Haiti.