A taste of home and the language of prayer

Two weeks ago I got to introduce my mom and one of my sisters (Julie) to my world here in Ecuador. And a week ago I had to wave goodbye.

I had a week off of school between the first and second semester, so they came down to visit me! It was definitely a bittersweet time, absolutely wonderful to see some family and share with them the home I have made for myself here, but difficult to face the ticking clock that was their return flight. I was surprised by how hard it was for me to shake the thundercloud that was that countdown. I had an entire week to spend with my mom and Julie, and it felt too short.

We spent a day in Quito, going to my favorite place: the teleférico (cable car)! We made it to over 13.000 feet. We then felt the effects of altitude sickness quite quickly and went back down.

Then, we made the journey into the jungle by taxi, each passing minute only adding to the my mom's confusion on how in the world I ended up SO FAR away from West MI.

We made it to the jungle, went to church, and enjoyed a very laid-back week: the river, shared meals, new fruits, and lot of walks. Nothing crazy or spectacular, but it was a week of sleeping in until 7 and spending time with 2 of my favorite people, so it was wonderful. I was grateful for the time and the chance to show some of my family the world I live in down here.

And then Friday came, and they got back in the taxi, and I did not.

I was reminded of what my mom had said after Christmas, to be grateful for the pain, because it means that it matters. Doesn't make it any easier in the moment, but certainly helps with my perspective on it the days after.

I was also reminded of how the last few times I've said goodbye, I had about 18 hours of buffer in flights and taxi rides before I had to go back to 'real life.' This time I only had the 30 seconds it took me to walk back to my front door.

Jumping into the following week was difficult, not just to get back into the swing of things or to start up a new semester, but this particular week had a lot of high highs and low lows, leaving many of us gasping for air by the time Friday afternoon rolled around.

Because most of those matters do not involve me, I cannot go into detail, but I would ask your prayers for students, staff, and missionaries, for wisdom, faith, and patience as we await the completion of the good works God has in store. But until then, instead of giving details of the circumstances, I would like to describe my language of prayer over the past couple weeks.

Prayer has always been an illusive thing for me. I've read books, listened to sermons, and talked with many who are much wiser than me, and I still struggle to know how to pray. I often have verses I pray over people and I use pictures of my loved ones to remind me to pray for them. My wall is covered in scripture, prayers, and ebenezers to encourage me when my praying feels like I'm talking to a blank wall. Well... at least my wall isn't blank...

Sometimes I do feel the Spirit moving as I pray and I feel blessed and useful. And other times, I just wish there was a checklist I could follow so I could give myself a gold star and feel good about the prayer I just sent up.

But. Then there are other times, when I am so grateful that prayer is not a formula, because I surely would not be effective in my crisis-prayers if I had to follow it.

I see it. The broken situation. The one I am not even directly involved in, but where people I love are hurting. The one where if I tried to step in and fix something, I would only end up making it worse. That one.

It is in these moments when I rely on the Holy Spirit and simply point. I have no words to say. No solutions to propose. No encouragement to offer. Instead, like air traffic control person, I take my flashlight to simply point out where to go. I am not suggesting that the Spirit is unaware of the trouble before I point it out, rather I try to understand the practice Paul described in Romans:

"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And He who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God." Romans 8:26-27

I do nothing, I simply gesticulate wildly to direct the Spirit where He is needed. I believe, if there were words, it would sound something like this:

HELP! HELP! THERE! OVER THERE! HELP IS NEEDED! SO HELP!

I shared this idea with my roommate, and we both laughed at the truth behind our crazy gestures to simply point the Spirit to where He needs to be. We marveled at God's ability to understand our wordless pleas for help and His commitment to working all things for His glory and the good of those who love Him.

After discussing this idea for a while, we came to the same mind-blowing conclusion: Wow. We are so loved by Him. He, in His infinite wisdom, knew that we, in our infinite lack thereof, would be unable to pray well. So, He sent Himself, the Spirit, to guide us in prayers and to even know our hearts to pray on our behalf in accordance with His will.

It is this idea that keeps me praying.

I no longer have to fear accidentally praying for the wrong thing or something that is outside of His will because He is interceding for me Himself. He is guided by His love for me and His desire for others to know Him. I simply offer the best I can and He receives it with joy. A crayon drawing from His daughter who can't do much, but is trying her best.

Dang.

I am grateful to serve the God of Love who created me, a tiny, weak sinner, and decided that He could use me anyway.

"But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12;9-10

I may not be able to say I actually 'delight' in those things yet, but I think I'm starting to get there.

Thank you for your prayers. Even if it's a simple point, I so appreciate your offering to the Spirit, to allow Him to intercede on your behalf for me.

I am weak but I am loved.

You are weak but you are loved.

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13

Bendiciones!

-Katie