Category Archives: Prayer

June 14, 2013 · 1:18 pm

Hope for Those Born into Brothels

My good friend Derrick Coy in his recent post, Journey with us through the slums and brothels of India, wrote about the above 2004 documentary film, Born into Brothels. Check out his post for more info on the film.

The first child you meet in the film is a beautiful 10 year-old girl named Kochi who lived in a Calcutta brothel. “They ask me, ‘When are you going to join the line [to be a prostitute]?” she said, looking out the window. “They say it won’t be long.”

Later in the film, a gifted young boy named Avijit, lost his mom because a pimp set her on fire. The police did not even investigate the murder. The devastated Avijit said, “There is nothing called hope in my future.”

All through the disturbing film, which I watched twice, I thought about K. P. Yohannan’s dream of harvest fields in Asia:

…Right in front of me was a river so wide and raging that I dared not step closer or try to cross it…

My heart broke. Was I only going to look at the harvest but not be able to embrace it? I stood there weeping, feeling so helpless and full of despair.

All of a sudden there appeared before me a bridge reaching from one side of the vast river to the other. It was not a narrow bridge, but one that was very broad. It was completely filled with children from all over Asia − poor, destitute children, like those I’d so often seen on the streets of Calcutta, Kathmandu and other Asian cities.

Then it was as though someone spoke to me and said, “If you want to have this harvest, it’s all yours. But this is the bridge you must cross to get it.” (Except from No Longer A Slumdog by K. P. Yohannan, ©2011, page 90)

K.P. Yohannan’s dream became the basis for the Gospel For Asia’s Bridge of Hope. So far, more than 500 Bridge of Hope Centers provide over 60,000 children with the love of Jesus, quality education, daily meal, and medical care. As these young children begin to understand God’s love, they carry the gospel home to their families.

Zani Briski, the main English speaking character, voiced her frustration in the documentary. “I’m not a social worker. I’m not a teacher even. That’s my fear, you know, that I can’t really do anything…” she said.

Bridge of Hope does something, by offering hope for the poor children of India, even those born in brothels.

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June 13, 2013 · 10:33 am

Prayer: So Easy To Talk About, Yet So Tough To Do (Part 2)

The vibrant sounds of Mozart’s Piano Concerto Number Seven swirled through the Beacon Hill mansion’s ballroom. The fifteen females seated around the grand piano, listening to the maestro, had proper Brahmin names like Cabot, Coolidge, Forbes, Lodge, and Shaw. Each traced her ancestry back to the earliest Puritan settlers of Boston. This blueblood lineage insured their invitation to the social tea, no nouveau riche Johnny-come-latelies were among the invitees.

When the pianist completed the piece, he stood and bowed. The women showed their appreciation with warm applause. One of the ladies put her white gloved hands to her mouth and said, “Oh, I would just do anything to be able to play the piano like that.”

The maestro turned and stared at her. His eyes exploded with fire.

“No you wouldn’t,” he said.

The crowd collectively gasped. All felt sorry for the woman who had been openly rebuked by the man’s insensitive words.

As for the lady, she sat stunned, paralyzed by his harsh eyes, tears rolled down her cheeks. Then, as if she remembered her privileged pedigree, she mouthed three defiant words at the pianist: “Yes, I would.”

“No you wouldn’t,” he said again, leaning over the piano toward the lady.

“Because if you really meant what you said, you would have been willing to give up your youth, your teenage years, and eight to ten hours every day practicing on the piano. You see there is a price to sit on this bench. I’ve been willing to pay it, and you have not!”

Like playing Mozart’s Piano Concerto Number Seven, prayer demands an all-effort on our parts if we really want to see God move through our petitions and supplications for our families, friends, neighbors, and cities. How costly will the price eventually be for each of us?

It will cost us everything!

(Continued in Part 3)

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June 8, 2013 · 1:13 pm

Prayer: So Easy To Talk About, Yet So Tough To Do (Part 1)

Almost twenty-five years ago, I read an interview of David Yongi Cho in Charisma Magazine which really bummed me out. It was a long interview which dealt with his life and founding of the Yoido Full Gospel Church in Seoul, South Korea, which then had 700,000 members.

What particularly bummed me out was when the interviewer asked: “Will America ever have a church as large as Yoido Full Gospel Church?”

“No,” replied Cho, “because Americans aren’t willing to pay the price in prayer that it takes to build a large church like Yoido.”

Slap! His words felt like a glove slap to my face, challenging me to a duel.

I readily admit to being full of myself at the time because I prayed 3 to 4 hours each day which is what Cho and his 400 elders averaged. So, I thought: “All I need to do is find a few believers like me who enjoy praying and voilà! America will have a large church.”

Well, after journeying over hundreds of miles of life’s back roads and through more than enough deep valleys, I have arrived at this conclusion: Cho was right. America will never have a church like Yoido Full Gospel, which now has over 1 million members.

“What?” you proclaim, picking up your gloves, readying to slap my face. “Do you still believe that the Lord’s house is called to be a house of prayer?

“Yes, I do,” I reply, keeping my eyes on your hands.

“Then what’s your problem?” you say through clenched teeth, still ready to slap me.

I shrug. “It’s a long story. Do you really want to hear it?” I whisper.

So, over the next few weeks, I will write on prayer. Some of the articles will deal with my prayer heroes. Some will deal with the mistakes of different prayer movements. Some will deal with my mistakes and lessons I’ve learned about prayer.

But hopefully, we will all end up trusting and loving the Lord more than we do now.

(Continued in Part 2)

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Tagged as Christianity, Gifts of the Spirit, Kingdom of God, Prophecy, Spiritual warfare

June 7, 2013 · 3:25 pm

Got Room For One More in Your Heart?

My prayer is that every abandoned and unwanted child in India can hold up a picture of a family who has decided they have room in their hearts for one more child. This is not a little prayer, but a monster one. You see, there are 11 million abandoned children in India, of which 90% of them are little girls, like the one above.

If you have room in your heart, check out Gospel For Asia’s Bridge of Hope ministry as soon as possible.

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June 2, 2013 · 5:40 am

Inside Israel

As you have probably guessed by now, I’m not Debbie, but since she’s taken a sabbatical, I will host Inside Israel where we will hear from our sister in Jerusalem about what she is witnessing there as a believer in Yeshua. Put your prayer shawls on and pray for Israel and Sister J. Now here she is …

Greetings to you with love. May you be blessed and may THE LORD be blessed and glorified! The ‘stories’ FOLLOW my ‘babblings’ this time, so if you want to skip down…the letter is divided into parts.

Life is NEVER boring here…not that I have ever been ‘bored’, but it would be awfully nice to have some less intense times. NEVERTHELESS…God, Who really does encompass our paths and hedge us in if we are His, does not give us more then we can handle as we seek His Face first. His rest and peace in the midst of the storms is more then theory, and I feel an increasing urgency to learn that lesson firmly NOW.

Planes have been flying overhead through out the day and night for the last several days and what we know is that tensions on our northern border (Lebanon and Syria) are rapidly heating up. There has been increasing tension on our southern border with Egypt as well, but it is the North that has seen the most recent border skirmishes. Both Iran and Hezbollah have seemed to try to unite the Syrian people by calling for a full scale assault on the Golan Heights (our ancient region of Bashan which was allotted to both the tribes of Gad and Joseph – Ephraim and the half tribe of Manasseh), so our northern areas have been on particularly high alert.

As our country watched with sadness the devastation of the violent tornado in Oklahoma USA, we also saw a local gunman enter a southern bank and shoot 4 innocent people before killing himself. He had been denied a loan of 6,000 shekels (about $1,600) and he saw no end to his financial situation. This is virtually unheard of here in Israel even though many many are suffering from the economy. There are suicides, but rarely this sort of violence. It stunned the country at the same time as the tornado. Intensity seems to be increasing in all areas of life, doesn’t it; in the weather…in politics…in moral areas…Intense, extreme and polarized seem to me to describe our times…or is it just from my vantage point?

I think that I mentioned that about 6 months ago The Lord stopped me in my ‘devotions track’ one morning and seemed to say to me ‘I want you to change the way that you read.’ Those of you who have known me for a long time may remember that when I first met Him I said to Him ‘This is Your Book. Will You please tell me how You want me to read it?’ and He did. He told me to begin in Genesis 1 and Matthew 1 and to read at least a chapter in both places, consecutively, every morning (in other words a chapter in the first covenant and a chapter in the second, from beginning to end over and over) and NOT to change that pattern ‘until He told me’.

Well…for more then 38 years now I have followed His wonderful lead and so was really thrown when it felt as if He said to change. Was it the enemy?? But no…He said to ADD a chapter of Psalms daily. Now, I get up at 4:30 to be able to have at least a full hour with Him…so I said…’Ok…but it may cut in on my prayer time…’ A week later He said ‘I want to change how you read.’ … ‘Uh oh…is this really YOU?’ I wondered. ‘I want you to add a chapter of the Major Prophets daily.’ Wow! That means that I am reading in FOUR places each morning. Here I go. Well…I was ok until I was in Ezekiel and suddenly came to the end of my first covenant readings that lead up to … the major prophets. ‘Do you want me to skip and go to the minor prophets?’ I felt confident that OF COURSE He did. ‘No. Read right through.’ So I found myself in Isaiah AND Ezekiel…Psalms and the new covenant. Then it was Isaiah, Jeremiah …then Ezekiel and Jeremiah… and each morning I have been begging Him for (and receiving, I believe) BALANCE and His Spirit to hear what He wants me to hear…because I would NEVER recommend that ANYONE be so heavily involved with the major prophets on their own…the sheer weight of the message and battle is enough to challenge anyone’s balance it seems to me.

So…I was moving along and this week I also came to … Jude! ‘Revelation comes after Jude! Tomorrow I will be in Isaiah, Jeremiah AND Revelation! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY TO ME, LORD?’

Well…I must admit that I feel as if I am getting a general picture of what He is trying to say to me; and that is that I am learning a great deal about ‘God’s ways in (times of His) judgment’. He is NOT ‘pressing me’ to stand up like a prophet or to be fearful or even to do more by way of preparation then we here normally do, but I am seeing how, over and over again He commands His people to ‘glorify Him in the midst’ and to ‘look to Him’ and to ‘rest in Him’… He is ONLY merciful…even in the midst of judgment.

BUT…although THIS is what is going on with me, I know that most of you would rather hear about things that are taking place here…

So I will begin with:

‘Meeting Rivka’. As I went to check in for a doctor’s appointment, an elderly (more even then me) lady pressed ahead of me and told the secretary that she didn’t have an appointment but needed to see the doctor. This is the kind of thing that makes both doctors and patients that do have appointments, groan. As I went to sit down, the lady went to the coffee machine and fiddled with it. ‘Do you know how to use this? Could you help me?’ she asked me in English. I went over and figured out what she wanted, but when she handed me the money it was barely half of what was needed, so I just made up the rest. She was somewhat feeble and walking with a stick, so I suggested that she take a seat and I would bring it to her. She was very thankful and I sensed that she was lonely and somewhat ‘lost’, so I sat next to her.

Rivka (who is 84 I found out) began her story with ‘My husband died 4 weeks ago and I don’t have an appointment.’ I looked into her deeply sad, panicky eyes and took her hand; ‘Oh, I’m so very sorry. Was your husband ill for long?’ I asked. The story began to pour out. It was not always coherent but it was powerful. Rivka was from Germany and she was about 9 years old she thinks on Kristallnacht. If any of you are unfamiliar with the event, it is well described here:

On November 9–10, 1938, the Nazis staged vicious pogroms—state sanctioned, anti-Jewish riots—against the Jewish community of Germany. These came to be known as Kristallnacht (now commonly translated as “Night of Broken Glass”), a reference to the untold numbers of broken windows of synagogues and, Jewish-owned stores, community centers, and homes that were plundered and destroyed during the pogroms. Encouraged by the Nazi regime, the rioters burned or destroyed 267 synagogues, vandalized or looted 7,500 Jewish businesses, and killed at least 91 Jewish people during the two days. They also damaged many Jewish cemeteries, hospitals, schools, and homes as police and fire brigades stood aside. Kristallnacht was a turning point in history. The pogroms marked an intensification of Nazi anti-Jewish policy that would culminate in the Holocaust—the systematic, state-sponsored murder of Jews.

She told me that she remembers that her father couldn’t walk and her mother wouldn’t leave him but arranged for Rivka to be put on the ‘kinder transport’ which was a project that rescued Jewish children and brought them, mainly, to England. That was the last that she saw of any member of her family. She remembered being in a convent in Riga Russia. She recalled being in France and finally with a wonderful family in London. She beamed as she spoke of them with deep loving appreciation.

Somewhere along the line she fought in the underground in France and knew Menachem Began. She met and married her husband when she was 15 to enable him to escape from Germany. So much of her story ‘floated’ in time and was confused, but I very soon saw that it was not due to Alzheimer’s or dementia, but to serious post traumatic stress…this precious lady was traumatized by her life. She told me that her granddaughter wants to write her story, but that she has never even told her children because she ‘mustn’t talk about it.’

There was such deep pain in her eyes and I could see that the death of her husband had lit a match to her smoldering memories. I touched her again; ‘Rivka, you have been so incredibly brave! My, your life has displayed such valor and courage, but you can not keep all of this pain inside. Let others hear and share…and let others help you.’ We talked for about an hour before I was called, but I told the doctor to take her first.

‘Please come and visit me!’ she requested. ‘Please give me your phone number.’ Her need is so great. Did I share The Lord with her? Only in that I sat with her, and touched her hand and asked her to open her heart. I felt no anointing to share Him in words but perhaps you will pray for her? This is something that we see here a great deal and Israel, sadly, is ‘professional’ at knowing how to help these people; people who came out of the holocaust and were brave and productive…almost ‘normal’…until the end of their lives when ‘yet another’ trauma, like the death of a spouse, stirs the ashes and the pain comes to the surface. Perhaps you will pray for Rivka, whom I could not share with?

And perhaps you would pray for Naomi and Dan whom I did share with but under strange circumstances. Dan is a very famous lawyer…ruthless…a sad man. Naomi can be really annoying. They are not ‘easy’ people to like. Inspite of all of their ‘worldly successes’ they also have their grief; they have an institutionalized schizophrenic son. Asaf is about 40 and has never given them anything but pain and they are heartbroken. In spite of the fact that I find them difficult to like, they seem to LOVE me!

So…Dan had the LAST appointment on Friday at the doctor’s office that I work in. Friday is a hard day and I feel like a race horse at the gate as the work day comes to a close. I am not always ‘happy’ to see latecomers. Just as I was getting ready to close up, Dan walked in late, with Naomi who announced ‘I know that I don’t have an appointment, but I don’t feel well.’

My heart was NOT feeling particularly compassionate; Naomi NEVER ‘feels well’…and it was getting toward shabat. My boss, Yosi, asked them to sit and wait while he made some phone calls, so I sat down with them just to talk for awhile. ‘Where did you go for Shavuot?’ I asked her. ‘Oh, we just stayed home. We didn’t do anything. What about you?’ she asked. ‘We went to a friend’s house in Na’alay.’ I answered. ‘We had a WONDERFUL time. It is so beautiful out there.’ Naomi and Dan are very curious about our background so she asked ‘Oh, are these American friends?’ I told them ‘No, they were born here.’

They were very happy to hear that we have sabra friends and she immediately wanted to know where I knew them from and HOW I knew them and WHEN I see them…so I finally said ‘Well, we are all in kehila (congregation) together.’

Now, you have to picture this. It is a very small room and my boss is there on the phone. Naomi doesn’t hear very well so she speaks loudly. Perhaps you remember the saga of me trying to tell my boss about my being a disciple of Yeshua and how all doors have been closed. So here is Naomi shouting ‘Congregation? Are you RELIGEOUS (they are NOT!)? What KIND of congregation? WHAT WHERE HOW??’ I took a deep breath and prayed quickly, saying as quietly as I could ‘I am a Messianic Jew (Yehudi Meshichi) ’.

She looked at Dan ‘What did she say? What is that? What does it mean?’ My boss was preoccupied on the phone – ‘She believes in yeshu’ he said. I corrected him; ‘His Name is Yeshua.’ ‘yeshu’ means ‘may his name be forever blotted out and it is like using The Lord’s Name as a curse. It is how HE is generally referred to here. ‘yeshu??’ She asked loudly? ‘Is that what you believe?’ Dan nodded and I said ‘Yes. I am a disciple of Yeshua h’Meshiach.’

My boss got off the phone and called them in. I felt wonderfully elated and not fearful. I have wanted to tell my boss for years, but the door kept slamming shut. Would this be the day? Would I loose my job? Had a door been opened for Naomi and Dan to hear? ‘Lord! Use this awkward seed for Your glory!’ I left before they came out and my boss has not mentioned it to me, once again. I believe that he knows who I am but chooses not to confront me and then need to fire me.

Naomi and Dan? They will ask! They will be majorly curious now and I am excited. May The Lord anoint me to lead them to The Well of comfort for their hurting hearts!

I am thankful for every opportunity that I get to share Yeshua with someone and I pray that He prepare the hearts that no seed would fall to the ground, but that it would bring forth fruit for the kingdom.

God bless and encourage you. Lovingly, your sis

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June 1, 2013 · 2:44 pm

Don Bosco…WOW

Most of what we call poverty in America, many Asians would label it as riches. The pictures in the following article by my good friend, Mark Pedder, are eye opening.

Markpedder's Weblog

Ok, so I thought I had seen poverty, knew what it was, what it looked like, what it smelt like, I mean I really thought I had been there. Which, considering where we live, that’s fair enough.

But today in Don Bosco we went for a wander to map the place out. At the end of the row of buildings was this little slum area that I had never noticed before, so I thought we’d better go in and check it out. Less than 100m into this place there is a pathway that turns left, so let’s go there…WOW. It led us to another 8 double storey buildings, roofs fallen in, rubbish so high, that some of the buildings only look single storey until you get up close to them. People living in homes 6ft by 6ft sq, on stilts, like high rise dog boxes.

I entered a building half…

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May 25, 2013 · 1:05 pm

Buddy, Can You Spare A Dime?

One day the Lord got my attention while I was standing at a busy street corner in India waiting for the light to turn green. There were little children everywhere, a common sight at many busy corners in Bombay. Tourists are cautioned not to give them anything because once you do, the others will all mob you.

While I was at this corner, feeling a bit annoyed by little hands grabbing at me, I heard from behind me the voice of a young girl.

“Sahib, Sir, my father died. My mother is sick. She can’t beg anymore. And I have a little brother, who is very hungry. Would you please give me a few pennies so I can buy some bread and take it to him?”

The light turned green, and everybody hurried on. But I couldn’t move. What she said pierced my heart, I turned around and saw this young girl, not yet 10 years old. I will never forget her face − one of the most beautiful faces I have ever seen on a child. She had big brown eyes, thick black hair almost the length of her body, dirty fingernails, and dust mingled with sweat running down her face. She was barefoot and in rags. She just stood there with her hand extended.

I put my hands in my pocket and took all the money I could find and gave it to her. Then, I walked on.

Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, I felt an unseen stranger joined me on this emotional walk. “So, what do you think about the little girl you just met? Is her life as valuable and precious as…” and the face of another young girl appeared in my mind’s eye. I didn’t know the name of the girl on the street, but I for certain knew the name of this new face; it was my own little daughter, Sarah.

I certainly don’t want anyone to feel guilty about lovingly caring for our own children and grandchildren. But the question remains: Is there room in our hearts for one or two of the world’s suffering children, and can we also care for them in Jesus’ name? Can we see them as Jesus does, so special to Him, their worth like jewels beyond compare?

When I read No Longer A Slumdog, I saw the face of my daughter, Susan, and became a sponsor in Gospel For Asia’s Bridge of Hope ministry. I pray this happens to thousands and thousands of Americans, maybe even you. (Larry Who)

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May 15, 2013 · 3:00 pm

Do You Really Believe The Gospel?

Charlie Peace was a criminal. Laws of God or man curbed him not. Finally the law caught up with him, and he was condemned to death. On the fatal morning in Armley Jail, Leeds, England, he was taken on the death-walk. Before him went the prison chaplain, routinely and sleepily reading some Bible verses. The criminal touched the preacher and asked what he was reading. “The Consolations of Religion,” was the replay. Charlie Peace was shocked at the way he professionally read about hell. Could a man be so unmoved under the very shadow of the scaffold as to lead a fellow-human there and yet, dry-eyed, read of a pit that has no bottom into which this fellow must fall? Could this preacher believe the words that there is an eternal fire that never consumes its victims, and yet slide over the phrase with a tremor? Is a man human at all who can say with no tears, “You will be eternally dying and yet never know the relief that death brings”? All this was too much for Charlie Peace. So he preached. Listen to his on-the-eve-of-hell sermon:

“Sir,” addressing the preacher, “if I believed what you and the church of God say that you believe, even if England were covered with broken glass from coast to coast, I would walk over it, if need be, on hands and knees and think it worthwhile living, just to save one soul from an eternal hell like that!” (Why Revival Tarries, Leonard Ravenhill, ©1959, 1987, Behtany House, Page 32.)

Do we really believe the Gospel? Do we really believe Jesus is the Way, the Truth, the Life, and that no one comes to the Father except through Jesus?

If so, what are we going to do with our beliefs? Will we continue sleep walking like the prison chaplain, ignoring the people around us who are facing an eternity in Hell? Or are we willing to crawl on our hands and knees over broken glass to save one soul from Hell?

The answers to these questions reveal the depths of our love for Jesus.

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Tagged as Christianity, Gifts of the Spirit, Kingdom of God, Religion, Salvation, Spiritual warfare

May 10, 2013 · 1:31 pm

A Friday Poem

I am nobody,

Worthless my life is.

To Untouchables I was born,

A Dalit child my fate sealed.

I was born in slums.

Rights? We have none.

To upper-caste our lives we owe.

Slaves to serve all their wish.

Poverty and hunger

Is all I ever knew.

If there is hope,

Tell me how?

What is my future?

Do I have any?

It all looks so dark

And I wish I were not born.

At the very bottom of the ungodly caste system in India are the 300,000,000 Untouchables or the Dalits. Their numbers are staggering and their children have lived the words in the above poem for over 3,000 years.

Yet, take a closer look at the above picture, okay?

These are Dalit children who have been brought into Gospel For Asia’s Bridge of Hope program. Their eyes radiate hope because they attend school, are fed one hot nutritious meal each day, receive clothing to wear, have regular medical checkups, and learn about Jesus.

And it only takes someone − like you or me − to sponsor a child for $35 per month.

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May 3, 2013 · 1:04 pm

No Ice Cream Cone For Jagruti

Can you imagine being six years old and never having tasted an ice cream cone? Never once having drops of chocolate dribble down your chin and splatter onto your shirt, causing your mom’s eyes to almost shout aloud. Never once taking a bite out of the bottom of the cone and making a bigger mess on your shirt, causing even more problems.

How can this be?

Jagruti is a beautiful six-year old girl who lives in rural Maharashtra, India’s wealthiest state which borders on the Arabian Sea. The financial capital of India, Mumbai, and other large cities in Maharashtra swirl with activity from IBM, Microsoft, Honeywell, Volkswagen, Audi, GM, Fiat, Mercedes, Skoda, and other large international corporations.

Yet, Jagruti has never tasted an ice cream cone.

You see, Jagruti had the misfortune of being born to parents who are Dalits. And as a Dalit child, Jagruti is considered a subhuman, impure from birth, and worthy of nothing but contempt. She is one of the 300 million “Untouchables,” which means just that – no upper-caste person can touch her and she can not touch them. She is denied access to public wells and may be fined for drinking from a water fountain.

But still, it’s only an ice cream cone, can’t she have one?

Jagruti’s papa is a hard working laborer, but being a Dalit, only certain jobs are open to him. These include harvesting crops by hand or cleaning open-air toilets, latrines, and sewers with his bare hands. This backbreaking work will earn him a few rupees per day, barely enough to support his wife, a baby daughter, two sons, and Jagruti.

So, no money left over for luxuries like ice cream cones.

Jagruti is special child, especially to my wife and me, because we help support her through Gospel For Asia’s Bridge of Hope. The picture above is one she colored and sent to us from her village, nine thousand miles away. A work by Monet or Renoir could never hold a candle to a Jagruti original.

Just so you know: my wife and I have struggled financially. Yet, we support Jagruti, three other children, and plan on supporting more. How? We’ve learned God honors His word.