The Ultimate Healer

 

8 months 14 days after God said “Alexis, I will instill you with the gift of healing”, a miracle happened.  You can deny me, you can make fun of you, you cannot believe me, but our God still heals. My prayers my thoughts have echoed healing for the past 8 months and today, he did it. He did it.

The night prior to a normal Sunday morning service, my mom told me she wasn’t feeling well. I was prompted to tell her that I would work her nursery position for the next morning so she could sleep in and hopefully feel better. That morning I got a sweet text from my boyfriend, Brandon, we were both full of Joy to see what God was going to do this week. Brandon had taken on the challenge to pray that I would have an opportunity to heal that week, and I knew he had been praying about that, although it wasn’t the first thing on my mind that morning! I arrived at the church, prepared to hold some babies and sing lullabies, little did I know what Christ had in store for me that day. When I went into nursery, the coordinator informed me that she had filled the position and I wasn’t needed. I decided to go to the service instead with my dad, I waited until he arrived and then went into service with him. He asked me to pick between two rows, I picked and we sat down. When the worship set finished I heard a women behind me cough. From the first sound of her lungs God opened my heart and I knew that she needed to be healed. As I turned slightly to see what God had in store, I saw a woman carrying a breathing tube and looking as though she was struggling to breath. The duration of the service was a blur, I prayed, I worshiped, and I set my heart for a healing. The second the worship leader said goodbye I grabbed my water bottle and waited for the women at the door. From here, the Spirit took over.

“Hi, my name is Lexi!” I said nervously. She replied, “Hello, my name is Susan.” “Nice to meet you, Is this your first time at Cornerstone?” “No, I was baptized here!” “ Wow, that’s great! Susan, God told me that I needed to pray for you this morning, so could I do that?” “Sure” she replied, “but first I need to use the restroom,” I laughed, “okay, I will wait for you.” She went into the restroom, and I prepared myself best I could. She came back and I said, “Our God is a God of healing.” She said, “Yes he is!” “God had given me the gift of healing, and today I believe that you will be healed. Can you please list the medical conditions that you are struggling with?” First, I received a blank stare and then amazement in her eyes. “Wow, okay! Well I have struggled with breathing. My lungs are breathing in a gas that they aren’t supposed to and my heart is not working properly, my back is in such pain.” “Alright, well God wants me to humble myself and so if you could sit down so I could kneel. “ She sat in a chair and I kneeled, I placed my hands on her, and for probably about five minutes I closed my eyes and Jesus spoke, tears ran down my face. I looked up to see several individuals staring at us on their way into church, but it was just me and Jesus. I looked at her and she was amazed. She said,  I need you to pray for protection, I’m scared of this man that hurt me and that’s why I’m struggling to breath.” Round two, I went into the same rhythm of prayer. Both Susan and I devoted our hearts to the power of God. I heard several coughs this time, and a clearing of the throat. I said Amen, and she looked me straight in the eyes and said, “I can breathe, it’s clear. My back doesn’t hurt, and my heart feels amazing!” I burst into tears, I hugged her, she hugged me and I could not stop repeating, “Praise God! Praise God! She said,“ I love you, thank you! I love you Jesus!”  

My words are beyond inadequate to share how my heart rejoiced. He is the ultimate healer. We doubt his power. If Brandon had not prayed for me, if my mom had not been sick and unable to go to first service, if I would have been needed in nursery, if I hadn’t waited for my Dad, if I didn’t pick that row to sit in,  then I would have missed it. I almost missed an opportunity to use my spiritual gift to bring faith and belief in the king of kings.

I’m not going to say I don’t care if you believe me, because I do. I want you to know that we serve a living God. We serve a Jesus that performed healings. The Christ that brought faith to great numbers of people through miracles. The one that offers His followers spiritual gifts to help grow the kingdom. My heart hurts for those who don’t believe me, for you are missing out on the most incredible, intimate relationship with the creator.  

My beloved Jesus,

I want you more. I want you more than anything the world can temporarily give me today. Thank you for working through me and in me to create such an incredible moment for my faith. I long for you , I thirst for you. You are they most valuable, the first in my heart. Lord, I give you everything. You are worthy of every ounce of glory that I can squeeze out of this. Help me to praise you earnestly when I have nothing, and when I have everything. For in you, I am always beautiful.

Your admiring daughter,
Lexi

 

I Am No Hero - Coming Home

I've realized something from my return to the states. I realized that my heart beats differently, literally. I've realized that with each breath, comes a burden and longing for each one of Gods children. I can hardly go an hour without tears for my babies, for his sons and daughters. Every fiber in me misses the smiles and laughs shared, the bonds and the fellowship that were shaped, and the love that abounded. I have to remember though that those feelings and spiritual connections are not gone. They are as strong as ever with each prayer, thought, and advancement of the kingdom. I am thankful for every second that our team had in Kitwe, and know that God not only encouraged the Sara Rose Foundation of Zambia, but the Cornerstone Church and family of Arizona.

I am so excited to share more stories of the spiritual journey we encountered, but I have one fear.  I want to release this fear though, and live for the glory of Christ. My fear is that you, my loving family, friends, brothers and sisters will see me and the team as "heroes". How incorrect this would be, for I am no hero. Although this trip was out of my comfort zone, stole my heart, and changed every perspective I've ever had. I am no greater than a servant of Christ. As we share our stories, and our hope for future ministry I wish that every word of praise would be to our Father. For it is rightfully his, nothing is done without his compassionate soul inside of us. He lead, we followed. It is such a simple statement to say, but has an infinite amount of meaning. My prayer is that every answer, every story, every tear would come from my humbled heart and that he would shine, not me.

Dearest Daddy,

I pray that every beat of my heart sings for your kingdom come, and your will be done. Continue to burden my heart for the least of these. Give me the grace needed to care for every child, not just those 9,800 miles away. Allow me to find rest in your arms as I hurt for your hungry children. Let every word be humble, and meek Lord. Instill a gentle and quiet Spirit inside of me, for you say that shall never be destroyed. Please, King Jesus give me the strength I need to listen to your call for my life, I offer my dreams to you Lord. Alter them, change them, and make me into the servant I was made to be. Thank you for preparing this moment for me Lord, and leading. I will follow.

 Amen, and in thankfulness :

Your Admiring Daughter

Forever and Soon-Africa Day 8

Today was our last day at the orphanage. I will miss each child with every ounce of me, for they have taught me so much. The Lord loves to use our passions to teach and instruct us on his heart for us! I saw it in Juliet today.

Juliet was one of the first, sweet girls I met at the Sara Rose home a week ago. She is my loving, little sister and would be a perfect fit for the Lucas family ( *hint hint Mom and Dad ). She is a quiet soul, you can find her in the classroom, learning or drawing when all the other kids are running wild and throwing cookies. You can always catch her sensitive smile, or hold her soft, little hand. Juliet is 7 years old, she was raised by her great, great grandmother untill she became to old, and weak to care for her. She dropped her at the orphanage for better care. Since then, she has grown with the loving care of the moms there. Although she is quiet, and has self control she has a wild and fun spirit that can't help, but make you laugh. Together we had our own dance party in the nursery and got several kids to join in on the fun. She wants everyone to be included, and won't let anyone be left out. She loves hugs that have tight squeezes, head scratches, and goodbye kisses. I will forever remember the grace that she has for everyone around her, and the sisterhood we share. 

Pasko was doing well today, and gave me a huge grin when I first saw him. I picked him up and cared for him for the day. 

By the end, I was called something I have never been called before. Mom, if you've ever read Kisses From Katie that same word lead her to a life of mission. The kids began to shout something in Bemba, looking for a translation the Mom said, " They are calling you Mother of Pasko," I smiled and kissed the sweet child in my arms. How powerful, 7 short days, and a relationship that will last a life time. To say the least I left with the Number of the Mom from the orphanedge, and left my number for her. Our conversations concluded with a possible teaching opportunity and open arms for a potential stay at the Sara Rose home. 

Letting go of the last hand, cracked another piece of my heart. One last wave, and blow a kiss goodbye, but it's not goodbye, it's " See you soon, I love you!" 

Housework and Hugs - Africa Day 7

 Today was spent with the orphans at the Sara Rose Orphanage.  It was a calmer and less intense day then the previous spent at VBS, but just as packed with Jesus. The older kids had left for school by the time we got there this morning. That left us with about 15 younger kids and laundry for 35. 

 Jeni and I began folding the Laundry that one of the "Moms" had instructed us to fold and sort. Now, this wasn't just any laundry, it was a mountain of laundry!

So with the Lords lead ,we folded all of 

it with a smile on our face. Little did we know, this was only the beginning of the laundering. These women honestly amaze me, they work so hard for nothing. At least nothing here on earth, but boy are they stowing away Gold for heaven!  We moved on to washing clothes. They didn't have a washer and dryer, just buckets, a hose, and some dry soap.

We scrubbed, and scrubbed, and scrubbed some more, but really just got the dust and dirt out of the clothes. After a while we hung them to dry on clothes lines and threw the leftovers on a low, reachable section of the roof. 

It was getting close to lunchtime and the kids were all in the schoolroom learning. The Moms gathered us in the kitchen to teach us and help us finish prepare lunch. A Zambian Classic Shima was being prepared. Basically it's corn meal and water. I had helped stir the thick mash the day before at the Feeding center, so I had a little experience. After we finished lunch, we served the kids and put them down for nap time. 

Meanwhile I was hanging out with my new brother Pasko. Pasko is 5 years old, and he has a spinal disability. His disability restricts him from walking, sitting up, talking, developing regular formation of his joints, and has stunted his growth. The kids call him baby, because he is litterly like a baby. I have a special place in my heart for disabled children, or disabled people in general, and always have. I asked a series of questions to one of the moms to learn more about him, and how he struggles. He stole my heart and I spent a lot of time trying to get him to say his sounds, which he is starting to get and making him smile with silly faces. 

He would laugh, I would giggle. He would smile, I would squeal. He would grab my hand, I would squeeze his. He is so small and fragile, but has a big personality that takes up the room! 

I love him, and we have a special bond. Only one that can be formed with Christ. I think that my soul didn't stop praying for healing from the moment I held him, to the moment I put him down, and yet it still prays now. It is so possible for him to someday walk and talk with the power of Jesus. 

I am thankful for each child I have touched, seen, and interacted with. I can't help but pray for more hands so that every child could hold one and I could comfort more then a few at a time.  Mmy life has been blessed with everyone of them. 

 Thank you Jesus, for the time I've had and the time to come. For each smile, each sound of laughter, and each kind hand. Thank you for all I have learned and all the lives that have touched mine. Thank you for sacrificing yourself, so that I am set free and can live a life with your joyful and compassionate Spirit. I do this for you Lord, and you alone. 

Living with your eternal love,

Your admiring daughter 

Attached to Hope- Africa Day 6

We were told not to get attached, because emotionally it can ruin you. I don't think that I'm capable of not attaching myself to children with the love The Lord has stored in my heart. Sometimes, my love overflows and bonds with the smiles and laughter that children produce. I guess that's a good thing, but not here, not now. The timing is horrible, but it's not my time to shine, it's his! God is tugging at every string that's wrapped around my heart. 

I'm starting to get the hang of this thing, you have to be stern with these children. I finally learned how to yell "Sit Down" with a Hitler, Germany type of tone. It actually works on these kids, and it's the only way to get them to listen. It's also boosted my confidence quite a bit! Although, with each yell I followed with a sweet smile and a kiss for all the children around me. It always seems to be that when you are finally getting the culture you must leave, today was our last, hard day at the feeding center and school. Although I was very weak and worn today, my prayer was for a renewed and energetic Spirit and I believe that it was answered. 

My heart was torn when Shelby pointed out a 2 year old to me. This wasn't a normal, healthy 2 year old though. As I took a deap breath and held her hand closer to my face the condition overwhelmed me. Her hand was burnt, from the fingertips to the wrist, pealing, cracking, blistering and missing the entire top later of skin. I tried to pick her up and comfort her, I then located her brother. I said in a terrible British/Bemba accent ( which seems to help them understand english better) "Does she have medicine?" He answered ,"Yeah!"  The little girl ran and snuggled with her brother, I said " does it hurt her?" He replied, "Yes, a lot!l I then questioned him, saying " why is she scared of me?" He shrugged and looked at her hand. My brain clicked, there is a strong possibility that her hand was burnt in response from physical 
abuse. A physical abuse that many of these children deal with daily. My heart hurt so much that I felt paralyzed and incapable of anything but love. I loved the girl and smiled at her as intentionally as I could. My soul sang for healing and a comfort for this child. 

The day went fast and feeding time soon came, which had become one of the worst yet my favorite part of the day. The worst because of how hungry the children are, but my favorite because I can help feed them with a prayer and a plate of corn meal, sliver of chicken with broth, and some boiled cabbage. Today I started by helping stir the thick, heavy, and hot mash made out of corn meal. Then, I grabbed the pot of cabbage and started to serve it on the plates, after a while we had about 20 kids to feed and I had ran out of the vegetable. I Wondered if we should make more, bu knew we had no vegetables left. God answered my question with "Keep going!". I had a moment when my mind raced and said " Lexi, it's all your fault that the rest of the kids aren't getting vegetables. You served too much to the kids before! How could you do that?" Right after the enemy was telling these lies to me, Christ interjected, reminding me he will give the children enough for that day, and supply there nutrition. I was thankful for that promise and went to wash dishes. 

While I cleaned the plates, I was surrounded by Zambian women with hearts of gold. I fit in, completely. I was meant to be here. If you've ever heard my testimony, it's not too exciting, but the turning point was the bullying I had gone through at school and how not fitting in really destroyed my confidence. The first place I ever fit in and was accepted was when I began going to Cornerstone youth group. The second place I fit in was next to an open fire of coals, a hole full of dirty dishes and filthy water, and a 150 hungry children in the middle of Africa. The common thread, Jesus. I fit in where Jesus is working. 

I cried and hurt as I kissed, hugged, and held each child saying goodbye. Instead of saying that dreaded word, Christ prompted me to say "See you soon!" I left knowing that I would soon see these faces of beauty and hope again. 

Cold Water, Warm Hearts-Africa day 5

Today was another day spent at the feeding center doing VBS. As we drove on the bumpy rodes in the bus I prayed and prayed for energy and a heart of compassion as I was lacking some of my previous qualities due to some mild exhaustion. Just in time, Jesus, pulled through and as the doors opened, I smiled as big as I could and welcomed each and every child that I passed on my short walk down the path to the school. Immediately, the day started, while we waited for the teachers to lead the children in thier morning songs I hugged and loved some of the children on the outskirts, the children that didn't make it into the feeding program, and the older children that were there to look after there younger sibilings in school. I began to feel burdened to look after these children today. 

We started the VBS and came to craft time. As I handed out crayons I took a bit of a risk and gave some to the older girls sitting on top of a mound watching the little ones.  I then proceeded to grab a coloring sheet so they could participate. They loved it, and tried to color there very best. I had swaddled the little girl from yesterday that was thin and frail and tied her to my side. With her sweet arms rapped around me I went to sit with the young women ( keep in mind they are probably only 10 or 11 years old, but have much more responsibility than any older sibiling in the US) I said to them,
" You are so beautiful and smart!" They looked back at me in awe as if I were an alien. I smiled and they finally replied, " Really? Thank you, you are beautiful too!"  It was as if they had never heard it before, and my heart hurt knowing how important it is for young women to hear that they are beautiful and smart. I continued and told them all how God made them special, and he loved them so very much! They smiled with each simple statement and giggled as they drew. One girl asked, " Will you draw me Jesus?" I laughed and thought, gosh I can't draw anything close to Jesus with a crayon. I created a circle with a smily face and some wavy hair. Then I realized, she is a visual learner just like me, I need to use this opportunity! So on each girls white coloring sheet I drew Jesus, a heart, and the word YOU to remind them that they were loved and not forgotten.

The day went fast, and hours passed with this little girl tied to me, she had fallen asleep for a while in my arms untill I woke her up for feeding. The kids were gathered around a bucket trying to wash there hands. I knew this little girl was hungry and eager to eat, so I brought her to the bucket. I washed her hands and sat her down to wait for her food, finally the plate came and she stuffed hand after hand full in her mouth as if she would never eat again. I helped her stuff some of the lettuce in and wiped her face. She stood up and proceeded to wet herself right where I stood, I smiled and lifted her off the ground. Barbra and I yanked her pants off and washed them in the water. Meanwhile she ran around, with a full stomach and no pants! 

Mealtimes are crazy and every child is hungry. Today I had the mental strength to hand out the food. I would go back and forth from the outdoor makeshift stove, with plates of food, and find a child that had not received thier meal yet. After setting the plate down the children shoved the food in thier
mouth and were finished quickly. I noticed a pile of plates was gathering and the 3 women cooking

the food from early this morning, like they do every school day, were finally sitting down for there meal. My head spinned for a second and said what a tedious and noble job they do! The Lord spoke directly to my heart and I humbled myself for service. 

I went directly to Paster Edward and said with quite a powerful Spirit," I am going to do the dishes, ok?" He looked back at me in disbelief, saying "You are going to wash the dishes?" " Yes,Pastor.." I answered.  "Well, okay," he replied. I think he knew that this strong christian woman was not changing her mind and like it or not I was washing those dishes. He walked me over to where they pumped city water into a hole they dug in the ground and lined in rocks. I set my hoodie where my knees would kneel and lifted my skirt up a little so I could sit. I then proceeded to joyfully wash about a hundred plates in a cold hole, with the little soap they had left. To test my faith even more, a drunk women had walked from her home to give us a few words. She said, "You feed my children, but you do not feed me! I am hungry too!" Her words played over and over in my head and a little
fear ran through me as she poked me and yelled to us Westerners. We eventually fed her, and I prayed she would be at peace. 

 I was splashed and soaked completely, but I had an overwhelming comfort and humble thoughts that overcame me. I could see myself doing this very thing for the rest of my life with joy. I even got an amazing compliment by the cook, " You are a true Zambian, a sweet African woman!" I giggled and told her I had waited for this moment all my life. Which in reality I had, I was at the feet of Jesus and laid down every ounce of my heart for his glory and service. I was doing exactly what I was always meant to do. 

1 Peter 3:4 " Your beauty should come from within you- the beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit that will never be destroyed and is very precious to God." 

Grace > Hunger-Africa day 4

Her rib poked mine as I held her in my arms. Hunger is devastating and when a child is hungry, it hurts even more deeply. Today was one of the most heart breaking days I have had. We began teaching VBS at a school here in Kitwe. As we were driving pastor Edward turned around and said "We are going into more poverty. " I looked out the window as the scenery began to change from poorer looking homes to huts and small brick buildings. The roads got narrower and bumpier when finally we came upon the "school", a small brick building, with a small patch of land gated with hills covered in garbage. Then came the most beautiful faces.  Over a hundred of these faces and I fell head over heals in love with each one of them. With Grace at my side and the Spirit dwelling inside of me I greeted each stunning child with "Hello sister, Hello Brother" with his eyes I saw every black, snotty nosed, and dry liped child as a special son and daughter, brother and sister with ONE Christ! 

I grabbed a baby girl who had been crying and snuggled her into my cheek, several seconds after, I felt something warm running down my shirt and looked down in surprise as I noticed the young girl was not wearing a diaper and had wet herself on me. With the mercy of Christ I smiled and set the child in a comfortable place.  Paster Clovis pored some water on the spot and I moved on. 

A baby boy began to cry so I ran to pick him up. He had a crusted noise and bloodshot eyes, but he was, for that second, my child. I grabed a hold of him, snuggled him up to me, and tied my hoodie around myself to support him like the African women do, I carried him around for an hour or so like that. He just snuggled right under my neck, snug as a bug. I looked down at him and saw something was in his mouth, I opened it and dug my fingers in ripping out leaves. I realized he had been eating the vegetation around us. My brain went into mommy mode. This child, God's child, my child, is hungry. At this point the kids were being served their one and only meal a day, and I was desperate to get my baby fed. I ran around in search for the baby's real mother so he could be fed, but none of the village women watching us would claim him. I ran to Paster Edward and said, " This baby is hungry, who does he belong to?" he took the baby and in Bemba ( there native language) he asked, "Who belongs to this baby?" After a minute, a girl about 7 years old stood up from the crowd and grabbed the child and took him to her food, where she fed him. Some relief came over me, but I still thought about the fact that he and his sister would be hungry tonight as they wait for there next meal. 

The VBS continued in what seemed to be a chaotic blur. Kids everywhere, crayons everywhere, the hot sun, the emotions, the hands grabbing mine, the known fact that each and everyone of these children had malaria and typhoid running through there systems and were living with every symptom that came along with them. With that thought in view, I saw a young girl maybe 4 or 5 laying under a tree while the children were eating. I went to her and gently picked her up and held her in my arms, Paster Edward walked over and said, "She is sick." My heart broke, because I knew that being sick in a place like this means being really sick. Later, I found that she had HIV and was struggling with symptoms. I cradled the sweet child in my arms as if she would die that minute, my heart loved her and still does as if I have known her for years. I prayed over her weak body for healing and restoration and passed her over to Shelby as many other young children were shouting, "Auntie  Lessi" and I was being sumoned to play. 

A tiny little girl tugged on my skirt I smiled down on her and lifted her up. She coughed as she leaned against my side and I felt a sharp rib touch my skin. My thoughts gathered and said, "Her ribs are touching me as she coughs." I was overcome with sadness. the thought of what kind of hunger this child has gone through, not only hunger for food, but hunger for comfort. 

I touched each and every child I could, I touched there soft warm cheeks, there rough cornrowed braids and sweaty shaved heads. I kissed each and everyones shiny forhead and told every child I could that I was there sister and I loved them. I called the girls princess, and boys princes, and reminded them that there dad was a King. I was covered in urine, sweat, dark warm hands, snot, sneezes, red dust, and had never felt more beautiful. I was content, at peace and in my own little slice of heaven! Coming back to the guest house, eating a hamburger, taking a hot shower, and getting in clean sheets feels uncomfortable and lonely. My heart longs for tommorow when yet again I can be among the least of these, with the greatest of love.