Worship, Retreat, and Prepare

 

Dear Prayer Warriors,

A Note on Worship

A few times in my life I have had a keen sense of heavenly worship. Years ago, I attended Founder’s week at Moody Church in Downtown Chicago. This large sanctuary filled with thousands of Jesus worshippers accompanied by one piano player filling the air with hymns, seemingly every single voice was singing in adoration, giving me the impression that nobody needed the words on the screen, and it was a humble privilege to join my voice to theirs. The sound itself was meek and beautiful, strong and reverential. I stopped to take it in a few times. Thousands harmonized around me while I sang the melody. I told the person I was with “I bet you this is what heaven will sound like.”

 

Another time I was in the mountains of Honduras among the poorest. We were in a “home”, which was an all-purpose room with a clay floor. About 30 of us huddled inside, and another dozen or so huddled by the doorway. We prayed, preached and dedicated children to the Lord. There were no instruments but everyone was accustomed to singing by everyone clapping to the same beat and singing whole-heartedly alongside. The simplicity of just voices giving a warm offering of praise to God, I felt that it was all they have, I learned there it is all I have for my King also. They gave of themselves. I remember the joy abounding, boldness in song, and intensity of that morning, transforming our circumstance of poverty into a heavenly habitat.

   

Our Family Retreat

The most recent time I stopped in my tracks and said in wonder “heaven must be like this” came last week while in Nebraska. The Joni and Friends retreat created a space for daily worship where the participants could adore and exalt Jesus. They gave Him His rightful praise and place. This time there were many egg shakers, tambourines, and borderline noise makers. It was such a flurry of worship, surrendered worship, joyous worship. The most vulnerable, the “least of these” being offered an altar to place a sacrifice of praise. We were among mentally and physically disabled people swirling around and around in unforced marching, limbs in every direction, childlike in presence, eager to love the source of love. Uninhibited, welcoming, come-as-you-are-praise. Add to that, able-bodied servants attentively assisting the lame to praise God. I eagerly joined in after taking it in, I can sincerely say “I bet heaven is going to be like this.” Unadulterated gladness and worship.

 

The retreat itself came with lots of encouragement and many people wanting to get to know us. We were surprised by this because the world doesn’t have much interest in us, but these people wanted to know how to serve us and help us raise Anna. The pace was so different from home and the content of our days remained fun-filled for sure. Not having to think about what to cook is a blessing, soda for every meal was a reckless bonus.  This was our first time we all stayed in one room and it was rather small, but it worked and rest came. Renee fully appreciated every moment. No mention of pretend “death” play and she used the potty more than ever at home. Victor won many over with his gentle smile. We had a memorable evening of catching fireflies which brought awe to Victor, Renee, and Anna. Other honorable mentions include go karts, swimming, archery, arts and crafts, dancing, smores and karaoke. The last night at camp was the talent show. I assumed we were going to go under the radar when Anna’s wonderful helper said “I think Anna has a definite talent of knocking over stacked cups.” With the spotlight on, Anna knocked them down with a smile as big as the Grand Canyon is wide. I won’t soon forget this. In thinking back on the 20 or so participant families that were there, I am completely humbled by how varied the care of their kids are to ours. “Special needs” really is a giant umbrella. I struggled to consider the lives of these other parents; they may have said the same thing when looking at me I suppose.

 

God opened the door for me to give of myself. I feel so often our family is on the receiving end, so I was eager to accept the challenge of service. By God’s grace, I shared my testimony to the other parents and helpers to praise His name. I will never get over the mercy Jesus gave me when I surrendered my old self and was born again to new life. On a last note about the retreat, God’s sweet Providence came in the form of the pastor who helped lead the retreat. He had lost a daughter tragically and also has another daughter with down syndrome. I learned about his journey through grief, his family’s varying greifs, and how God has kept him advancing. It was “a God thing.” As the camp director likes to point out when appropriate.  

 

Commemorating the loss of Simon

Which brings me to this coming Wednesday, our day of remembering the passing of my son one year ago, please pray. I want to give back to Simon’s friends that will be here, to the friends and family that have mourned with us. We are having a sort of open house hymn sing, welcome to anyone. I want to honor the memory of my son and magnify his Savior. I feel fear trying to tell me that what I have to give isn’t good enough. Or that my heart is in no place to face this “Goliath”. Didn’t I feel this way at Simon’s birthday? At Christmas? Etc… I want to be surprised by joy, strengthened in faith, surrounded by God’s chosen helpers. I hope to heartily share the overflow of goodness that God gave me from walking so closely with him during his short life.  Children have brought such richness in my life. “Hold me steady Jesus, it’s all about You!!”

 

On the way home from Nebraska, Google maps took us within view of the field where Simon got bit by the snake. I looked over at it and just put my head down, and kept driving. The feeling of loss swept over afresh; the sadness seems renewed a bit. Since then, the trauma of that day has become more vivid again. Calling out to God incessantly, hopeful in the Lord through it all. I remember gripping my son and running with my three-year-old daughter through the brush. Prying the barbwire apart to pass my children through, “mercy Lord you were there.” O may the love of my Father hold me in these days of memorial. May He reel me in so my line doesn’t drift or snag. Yahweh has been faithful to me this whole last year. “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.” James 4:8 my tear catcher.

 

I’m not sure what I have learned in my son’s absence. However, I know what helped me! I’m going to need to be intentional on thanking God for the 6 years I did get with Simon. I know having a song in my heart will give great help at just those vulnerable times. Weeping in prayer is a balm of help for me. Another “Mighty Fortress” in the sorrow has been God’s Word catered and customized by the Holy Spirit particularly meditating on heaven, the millennial reign and anticipating the appearing of Jesus. May His Words be Healing this week. I look forward to the support of family, friends, and church family. I remain hopeful in the Lord’s goodness and care of me through this next week.  “Thank you, Lord, for my beautiful son, Simon Emmanuel Currat who is with You, waiting for me.” Blessed be the Lord for what’s in store even this coming Wednesday, even in writing this I feel my nerves chill out, plus in Christ, I am seated in heaven even now!  

 

 Praise God for:

-The terrific time we had in Nebraska, bonding and sharing our burdens. seeing our kids in a new environment.

- Rest in Him, faith for today and bright hope in His Word for tomorrow. He steadies the trembling hand

 

Please pray for:

-The Holy Spirit to prepare hearts to encounter Christ as He is the guest of honor at our celebration Wednesday.

-Marital unity. as the events of this week unfold, to be in step with one another as ones united in Jesus. Pray for our hearts to be soft in the Potter’s hand who is purposing all this for His glory.

- wisdom for us to put the right measures in place to prevent flooding from happening again and patience to refinishing the basement.

-continued equipping to care for Anna including a night nurse, and for better therapy options.

 

I wanted to leave you with the last two stanzas of Pass me Not, O Gentle Savior as they ring so clearly to me in my heart:

1. Trusting only in Thy merit,
   Would I seek Thy face;
   Heal my wounded, broken spirit,
   Save me by Thy grace.
2. Thou the spring of all my comfort,
   More than life to me,
   Whom have I on earth beside Thee,
   Whom in Heav’n but Thee.

 

Thanks for the prayers and Love,

 

Nic for the Currat