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Blisters & prayers


Back in my hammock now after a cold shower ( for there’s no other variety at the moment), I nurse my freshly earned blisters. From my hands to the shovel to the clay dirt of Costa Rica, I’ve been digging steps in the cliff edge to make my way down to the river. The objective is to clear a path that will someday bring teams of young people from the base camp to the river down below so they can get into our currently non-existent boat, and cross upriver to the launch at San Juan. From there they would start the hike up into the jungle and arrive at the Nest site.


Besides blisters I’ve been fixing toilets, replacing light switches and breakers, repairing doors and installing locks. And all this is only a drop in the bucket to the plans I’ve begun to design in order to make this base camp operational. Not to mention the enormity of the labor involved on the property for the Nest itself.


As I consider all this work, I don’t believe my work ethic and general stubbornness will be enough to get it done. Nope definitely not. I’m gonna have to color way outside my lines to see this thru. And that’s the alarming resolution I feel. The hope and vision of preparing a space where God may gather broken souls and healing hearts, where the real work can be accomplished.


And the Holy Spirit is already at work. Does He need this space to do it? No, but I think the sweat and blood equity can be the means of working the soil of my heart so that it becomes fertile ground for Him to bear much fruit. The vision pulls the train, and on that train are the materials and the hands of those who use it wisely.

Later today Karina and I will be leaving the Bambu base and heading back across the river. We’re taking the builder whom God has called, into the Nest site to discuss the plan and look over the land. We pray he catches the vision and can see a reality from the possibility we present him with. We’ve been doing a lot of praying. Little prayers of thanks and great big ones, casting our unknowns at His feet. Each time we pray we walk away refreshed, confident that we’ve been heard and that He is willing and able.

The funny thing with prayer is that it seems designed to change the one who’s praying every time. It’s not so much the request as it is the requester. By God's will, the answer has already been accomplished, the transformation happens when I do the asking. The bended knee, the acknowledgment of need, the transfer of will, from mine to His, that’s the stuff He’s after. The rest of it, the funds required, the right people at the right time in the right place, that’s for Him to organize and He’s already doing it.


It seems each new day brings fresh confirmation for the project. And it’s not things which we could even conjure up with our enthusiastic outlook. With every “no” He’s shown us another “yes”. And so we step as He provides the stones to step on.


I’m reminded of a verse in Psalms where it says that He is a lamp for my feet. Not a mile-long string of LED lights, but just enough light to cast a glow of serenity at my feet as I walk along following His lead. Sure, He’s supplied a vision, but the way there is chock full of unknowns, both good and bad. Ultimately the Nest is not the goal, it’s Jesus that’s the prize. He’s promised that it’s in Him alone that I’ll be satisfied and so I pray only for the lamp of my soul so that my dependence is complete in Him. Hide me, Lord, from the fear of danger. I trust in you.

 

Author: James Beach, Co-Founder

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