Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Park (10/25/12)
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TITLE: Jesus Tent of the Supernatural | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lizzy Ainsworth
11/01/12 -
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Would it be the normal crowd of those Jesus junkies, the ones that love this sort of thing and are enthused and infused with His presence, or in a culture where it seems the church is the last place you turn for a supernatural experience, will it be those on the fringes who have been hurt by religiosity, or those off on other end of the spectrum; the mediums, clairvoyants, the witches or those that aren’t fooled by the power that they realise is not up to possess, but in fact possesses them to the depths of depression?
So we wondered these things as we stood at the openings on the sunny weekday morning as the sound equipment died and the clock ticked closer to the time of the first meeting, and struck the top number and we started singing anyway to the strum of the lonely guitar that offered itself in service as an instrument of worship.
So we shouted for joy at the end of the service, when the Gospel had been preached and one lonely soul stood up in the not-so-full tent to respond.
So we went home and prayed long and hard for more people at night and returned in expectation and watched God heal the guy who had fallen off his roof and strained all his muscles, and the one who was covered in rashes head to toe and the man with arthritis in his knees started to jump around imitating a kangaroo.
So we prayed harder and watched in excitement as people from every spectrum of life walked through the door and we warred in worship to see them set free, and we were stretched and the ones with spare time and a little bit of guts set out to worship on the street and hand out the flyers with a smile and invite. The pick strummed hard and we sang lofty while all the while it seemed the pick only clinked hard against the frosty smiles of strangers frozen into the sub zero climate of the culture, avoiding the thawing warmth of love.
Yet still as the meetings rolled onwards and the days ticked forwards, there was a drawing to the tent that only God could initiate, as people walked in and felt love and were healed from their disease or prevented from something disastrous.
Yet the city waited still, most not daring to peek through the flaps into a new beginning and as the final meeting drew to a close we wondered what now, and we knew that we needed boldness from heaven to creep out into the highways and byways to claim the territory in our own streets and suburbs
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