From Thailand.

I wrote this journal entry after being in Thailand for about 7 months.  We have now been in Thailand for two years and are currently living in Chiang Rai, Thailand seeking to establish homes of restoration founded and fueled by night and day prayer (www.ezekielrain.com).  Join with us in praying for the opening of prison doors, for Thais to receive the Spirit of Adoption and rise up as mothers and fathers to the lonely, for restoration for the broken and exploited and for revival to sweep this land.

I am heavy.  I don’t know what else to do right now, so I am going to write.  Without thinking first.

Incredible beauty – the handiwork of God.  Incredible darkness – the handiwork of sinful man.

I feel sick.  So much oppression, so much sadness, so much need and so much hurt.

Where do we go from here? When you know, when you have seen, when you have experienced – you are responsible.

A little girl.  Maybe 8 with her baby brother strapped to her back with a cloth.  Standing, begging, trying to get money for her family as her mom and other little brother hide behind a pole.  Waiting.  Waiting for money, waiting for a meal, waiting for a promise of a better life, waiting for hope.

I know what goes on at the border.  Little ones shuttled across   Sold to the highest bidder.  Older ones walking on their own across.  To promises of freedom, wealth, a fresh start.  Lies of the enemy that lead to death.  Mothers selling daughters.  Daughters trying to provide for the families.  Strong ones, trying to be free.  Police turning a blind eye.  Illegal activity.  Oppression.  Exploitation.

This weekend I didn’t rescue any children.  I didn’t share the gospel with anyone.  I didn’t see any miracles.

I prayed.  I stood at the border.  High on a hill.  Next to a Buddhist temple with monks and school children all around and I prayed.  Out loud.  With my baby in the sling and my four year old daughter at my side.  I lifted the name of Jesus up.  I declared Him, King.  I worshipped Him and invited His Kingdom to come and His will to be done in Thailand, in Burma, in the Buddhist temples, in the brothels, in the lives of all those gathered around me.  

It felt like I threw a rock into a flock of pigeons.  Everything began to swirl around me.  People started to move about, staring.   They were unsettled. My daughter started shaking and crying.  She wanted to go home.  She wanted her dad.  She felt it.  She always does.  She felt the rulers, authorities, powers of darkness and spiritual forces of evil.  She started to pray out loud with me.  Her voice got stronger with each declaration.  Jesus you are here.  I am your daughter.  You are the King of Kings.  You are my Dad.  I am covered by your blood.  You have conquered sin and darkness.  I don’t have to be afraid.  You love me.  She stopped crying.  My husband and my six year old son came down the mountain.  Daddy held her tight. I believe she feels what all the other little ones feel – desperation for a Father’s love in the face of darkness.  

It seems like we haven’t even started.  The to-do list is overwhelming.  Find children.  Free children.  Restore children.  Over and over again.  Times a million.  Plus a million more.  I know it is God’s work but my hands, heart and feet are itching to be doing.  Is that wrong?

Tonight I have to go to bed.  I am tired.  My kids need a functioning mom in the morning.  And I feel guilty that I get to sleep.  In a house, with those I love, safe, fed, clothed, loved and free.  No one is raping me.  And I am thankful but…I can’t stop thinking of all I have and all those around me that have not.

I have got nothing.  I can’t do a thing in my own strength.  I am at the end of myself and I haven’t even “rescued” one girl.  Please, Father God.  Renew my mind.  I look to you.  I choose to believe.  Tonight, I look to you, Jesus.  I believe your Word is true.  I believe you are Truth.  Be my reality.  

Jesus, show me your power.  Show this nation your power.  Show the world your power.  Arise, oh mighty man of war.  We need your justice.  Make wrong things right.  End the demand, transform the lives of the oppressors and the oppressed.  Set the captives free.  Bind up the brokenhearted.  Give beauty for ashes.  Joy for mourning.  A garment of praise for a spirit of despair.  This is what you do.  This is what you did.  It is finished and yet I didn’t see any evidence of this, this weekend.

God, let your Kingdom come, tonight.  To the brothels, to the girls, to the women, to the poor, to the perverts, to the traffickers, to the drug addicts, to the mothers and fathers, to the fatherless, to the church, to my family, to my heart.  And your will be done as it is in Heaven.  Come quickly, Jesus.


Aimee said...

so moving. thank you for posting.

Amber Noella said...

So compelling. Thank you. I want to do something...I want to pray. I want to stand in the gap...move...