Post from The Wild Goose Festival

A person’s breath is the lamp of the Lord,

searching the innermost parts. - Proverbs 20:27

The Spirit called to me through this verse as I was reading it two days ago.  It resonated with my desire for God to search all of me, even to my innermost parts, and to cleanse me in preparation for His service.  The verse has stuck with me as I’ve called it back to mind and mediated on it these past two days.

This morning I find myself drawn back to it again as the sun rises on Shakori Hills.  Just as the morning sun filters through the trees bringing light and life to all of God’s creatures here in the forest I pray God’s Spirit will search my innermost parts, cleansing me that I might fully enjoy the abundant life that lies ahead.

No More Bombs

There has been an unexpected awakening within me during this Walk of Peace prayer trek.  As the hours on the trail wound by I found myself not only praying for Slovenes to know the peace of Christ.  Only occasionally at first, but then more and more frequently I voiced prayers for world peace, for men to stop pillaging, torturing, and killing each other.  This feeling, these prayers, overflowed within as I left Fort Kluze where the poem above was inscribed on a memorial and ascended Mt Rombon to the bombed out remains of Fort Hermann.

Approaching along the mountain trail the ancient cloud-veiled ruins were quiet and serene, almost mystical.  Drawing closer I was startled from my tranquil state by a large banner hanging from the ceiling just inside the main entrance.  There were no words on the banner only a bright red image of a bombsight on a battleship grey background.  In the center of the bombsight was a yellow bomb with a black X over it.  The wordless message was simple and, especially in this setting, profound – No More Bombs.

I stood there thinking back to all the battlefields, graveyards, and memorials I’d walked through the past few days.  I thought about the tens of thousands of men, women, and children who were killed in the now peaceful Soca valley.  I thought about the ones who had died in this very fort and the ones they had killed in the valley below. Out of my pocket I pulled the now tattered slip of paper on which I had written some of the prayers I voiced repeatedly during the past few days and once again read the centuries old words of Augustine of Hippo;

We bring before you, Lord,

the troubles and dangers of peoples and nations;

the sighing of prisoners, the sorrows of the bereaved,

the necessities of strangers, the dependency of the weary,

the failing powers of the aged.

Lord, draw near to each for the sake of Jesus Christ.

I’m not sure if I’m a certified peace activist yet but I do know I will be much more intentional about praying for peace among all people of our world.

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Pleasant Places

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;

Indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.  – Psalm 16:6

One of the habits I’ve developed over the years as a wandering, wondering pilgrim monk is to begin each day, wherever I am in this wondrous world God created, with a psalm or two.  I start with the psalm corresponding to the day of the month – i.e. on the 16^th I read psalm 16.  I have a pocket New Testament that my wife gave me back nine years ago.  This Testament and I have been traveling companions ever since.  It has journeying around the world with me more times than I can remember.  Often when the Holy Spirit speaks to me through a verse I will highlight that verse notating the location and date. 

I feel especially blessed to live this peripatetic prayer life that God called me to so Psalm 16:6 is highlighted and has several notations by it.  Apparently the 16^th day of the month has been a most auspicious traveling day for me (and often finds me in Southeast Asia).  Once again I find myself reading Psalm 16 and feeling that the boundary lines have indeed fallen in pleasant places for me.  The simple date/location notations inundate my heart with good memories.  Here are a few:

November 16, 2009 I was at an eco-nature preserve in Kiet Ngong, Laos.  The last few days had been tough and we had taken an afternoon break from our prayer motor scootering across the country.  I spent the afternoon praying, reading and writing on the balcony of our elevated bungalow as the water buffalo grazed below and the mahouts worked their elephants on the nearby hills. 

November 16, 2011 found me in Laos again but this time in Vientiane, the capital city.  As so often happens, our best laid plans had gone awry.  We were supposed to take a small commuter plane to the southern end of the country to do some more prayer/literature distribution scootering and explore some large caves we had heard about but the airline overbooked the flights and my little team found ourselves stuck in Vientiane.  None of us being ‘city people’ we soon found some scooters to rent and went exploring the northern half of Laos.  Serendipity and a willingness to be open to the Spirit leading allow us to pray with and for people we never would have encountered had our plans worked out.

On January 16, 2011 a friend and I were prayer walking at the Shwedagon Pagoda on Yangon, Myanmar.  We met a local named Win who spent the afternoon explaining the intricacies of the pagoda and the Buddhist worshippers there.  We had a good talk with Win about why we were in Myanmar and shared some of our Gospel literature with him.  The next morning we caught a flight up to the famous city of Mandalay where we spent the week mountain biking while praying for the people and sharing literature.

I was once again in Myanmar on December 16, 2011.  This time in the ancient city of Bagan where there are over 4,000 Buddhist temples spread out over the plains of Bagan.  Each morning I would pick out one of the larger temple that appeared to be overlooked by the tourist hoards.  I would fight through the thorn bushes and brambles to find a way inside.  Once inside I ascended the narrow, steep stairs to the top level for a perfect place for a day of quiet prayer while looking out over the people, villages and temples on the surrounding plains.

Praying On-site

 “To pray while seeing, feeling, touching, and hearing is to pray with unique intensity.  After the prayer walk is over, you will never pray the same way again for the location of your walk and the people you met there.” - Dan R Crawford, Professor of Evangelism and Spiritual Formation and Chair of Prayer and Spiritual Formation at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary

Before I left for the Walk of Peace prayerwalking trek in Slovenia I read this line in the prayerwalking book Joe Kelley recommended and I mentally assented to it.  But mentally agreeing with a principle just doesn’t have the same gritty, in-your-face impact as experiencing the truth firsthand.  I could have stayed home to pray for Slovenia but my prayers would never have had the intensity of the ones I prayed along the trail. 

If I had not gone I would not have known to pray for Neva, the lady who runs a hostel I stayed at one night.  As I was explaining to her what I was doing in Slovenia tension came into her face and she let me know she wanted nothing to do with ‘The Church’.  I explained this was not about ‘The Church’.  This was about knowing Jesus personally and following his ways.  Neva accepted the Gospel of John I offered but let me know again she wanted nothing to with ‘The Church’.

If I had not gone I would not have known to pray for the three road repairmen I met on the trail.  They were taking their lunch break when I happened by.  They knew no English so we couldn’t talk but they seemed genuinely glad to accept the Gospels I offered.  They were reading and commenting to each other as I continued on down the trail praying for God to use His Word to open their hearts.

As Professor Crawford said I will never pray the same way for Slovenia or the people I met there.  Yesterday as I was pushing the lawnmower through the grass (overgrown from my time away) I prayed for Neva, for the repairmen and for all of Slovenia.  These people are now a part of my life, my story, and I will remember them because I personally have looked into their eyes and seen their need for the peace that Christ offers to us all.

Chapel in the Woods

Reflecting back over my Walk of Peace prayer-trek in Slovenia there were many times when I felt especially close to God.  Times when, as the Celtic Christians used to say, the veil between heaven and earth seemed as thin as the early morning mist on the mountain.  But the pinnacle, the truly ‘thin place’, was the last day of trekking.  It was amazingly beautiful along the Soca and Koritnica rivers that morning.  My soul was at peace as I prayed for Slovenes, for the world, for myself. 

The words of the psalmist flowed through my mind, “…I have calmed and quieted myself like a weaned child with its mother; I am like a little child”.  I had seen God protect and provide for me all week as a mother does for her infant.  He provided shelter just as the afternoon thunderstorms came each day; even though I had nothing planned ahead he provided delicious food and a good bed each night; and he provided trail markers every time I got a little confused as to which way to go.  I was as carefree and content as a toddler in his mother’s lap.

The highlight of that wonderful day was when I came up on a 500 year old run down Gothic church in the middle of the woods.  Cerkev Sv. Lenarta is a simple stone walled, dirt floor building with a heavy iron gate for a door and three arched windows in the back wall.  Inside was a massive stone alter with a single candle flickering before icons of Jesus and Mary.  As my eyes adjusted to the darkness more details came into focus.  Remnants of stone wall sconces.  Portions of a wall projecting from each side.  Then I saw a stone block to my left with a thin thread-bare cushion on top.  Obviously some old saint, probably the one that lit the candle this morning, had spent hours and hours there praying.

Hesitant with a sense that I was invading a private prayer space I dropped my backpack and took a seat on the cushioned stone and began praying for my unwitting host, for all Slovenes, for the church in Slovenia to wake up and be the bride of Christ she is called to be.  I longed for them to know the true peace of Christ that had been overflowing in me all day.

After prayers I left an offering, of sorts, on the ancient stone alter.  Among the icons and lava-like candle drippings I placed a copy of the Gospel of John with a prayer that my local Slovene host would find the hope she had been searching for within its words.  The golden icon of John on the stark black cover looked at home in the old stone chapel.  I then continued even more buoyantly on my trek.  This day route was an out-and-back on the same trail so a few hours later I found myself seated on the stone pew praying by candlelight again.

That was five days ago.  I’m now back home in the thick of all the busyness of life but I still feel the peace, the calmness, the still within me from my time with the Lord in that old chapel.  This peace is simply indescribable.  I so want to write, to share the feeling but I can find no words other than the ones of the ancient psalmist quoted above. 

Photo of the week-Water Stop

Water stop on the Walk of Peace prayer trek.  Fresh water is flowing from the mountain into the stone cistern behind me.

Peace Poem

This is where havoc wreaked
This is where it hurt
This is where they fell
This is where it thundered
This is where we fed them
This is where we led them
This is where they were killing us
This is where they had our women
This is where the army drum
Fell into the pit a night
This is where the war ends
This is where peace will reign
- Zdravko Dusa

Inscription on a peace memorial on the Walk of Peace, Slovenia

Marco Polo prayer chapel

I'm continuing the Walk of Peace prayer trek at the prayer chapel in Marco Polo airport at Venice Italy. It's a beautiful, quiet thin place right inside the rush of the airport.

Prayer for peace

"In the mighty name of God,
In the saving name of Jesus,
In the strong name of the Spirit,
We come,
We cry,
We wait,
We look,
We long
For you."
-frequent prayer along the Walk of Peace prayer trek in Slovenia.

Walk of Peace prayer trek

Overcast skies and rain showers but still had a good prayer trek on the Walk of Peace trail above Kobarid. At one road crossing I ran across 3 road workers on lunch break. Couldn't talk much because of the language issues but they seemed genuinely glad to accept the Gospels of John I gave each. Let's pray that they will read and open to God's Spirit. 

Photo of the week-Walk of Peace

Water fall I passed on my Walk of Peace prayer trek in Slovenia