The Power of a Word

I have just finished reading ‘Day After Night’ by Anita Diamant, a story about Holocaust survivors who were imprisoned by the British in Israel, freed by the Jewish Palmach and placed in Kibbutz’ throughout the country.

 

“Kibbutz.  The word echoed in her head suddenly unfamiliar and unlike an ordinary noun like pencil or soup.  More like justice or even unicorn.  Not so much a thing you could put a hand on; kind of a fairy tale or a dream…a nice idea, a noble goal perhaps.  Not a real place like the one these men were talking about…just out of view.”

Kibbutz; for these survivors, it was another word for freedom.  Though they knew this word; they knew about the places that they were, but heard now, in this moment, the word held another meaning...salvation, freedom, home at last, a dream fulfilled.

The power of a word understood…said or heard or read at just that moment…the moment of seeing it real…of feeling it, smelling it, tasting it.  Have you ever heard a word like that?

 

A friend said to me on Sunday that he was amazed at the reading of these words…one in particular; the word taste.

 

"Truly I tell you, some who are standing here will not taste death 

before they see the kingdom of God."

Luke 9:27

Taste death?

What do you do with a word like that, used in that way for that purpose?  Tasting death…it’s as if it is something to be grasped, held on to, experienced; rolled around on your tongue, filling your pallet and then…to be swallowed. Like a blueberry, a little explosion, popping in your mouth, it’s sweetness laughing there, all sweet, flesh, and skin and seeds.  Like ice cream?  Ice Cream, with a bit of butterscotch, smooth and creamy, sweet; melting over every taste bud and down…your throat cherishing the melting down of it.  Tasting; maybe like a lemon, biting down on it, the pulp, squirting, finding its way into every hidden place in your mouth, its juice sucking up everything into a pucker, your lips, the whole of your face and even your fingertips…bitter.

Tasting death…tasting, the power of a word.

.

A word, how you hear it, how it falls fresh in your mind, powerful, with a new meaning, on your heart, filling your soul.  Words, how you say them matters, how you hear them sometimes matters more.

The power of words…thinking, feeling, tasting…taking them in, filling your soul.

I love that.

Into a Spacious Place

Today I went to pray for the VBS program at our church.  A room was set aside for volunteers to come into to pray, we were given names of leaders and helpers, an overflowing list of names on a page.  There was a list of the Bible stories that would be told and the verses that would be memorized. We were given the stations that would be running, places like the Preschool Palace, Epic Bible Adventures, Tournament Games, The Imagination Station, Chadder Theatre and of course the Fanfare Finale that will take place tomorrow.  And we were given the names of children attending the program, in order of age and in some cases to whom they belonged.  In the midst of the prayers of unity, joy, patience, passion and simple service for the leaders; we prayed for the children that they would easily understand the message presented to them, that what they learn here will hold them for life, a lifelong hope of Life and beautiful hearts.  We prayed that in turn their families would be open to hear their children retell the stories and listen to the message they bring home with them; that they too would be transformed.  A room filled with prayer, for every hour and every moment, for all of those that were there in that place.

Covered in prayer moment by moment…I want to be prayed for like that.

John’s cousin has been in the ICU in Vancouver Hospital for these past 2 months, she was brought in by ambulance and received emergency surgery.  Things did not go well, there were infections and complications. She has been through much.  Before her surgery she told the Doctors to do everything possible to keep her alive, no matter what.  She has been, poked, prodded, taped, tubed, scanned, x-rayed, sedated,  transfused and intubated .  She has been near death; touching death, death touching her.  The Doctors were ready to give up, but Sandra said, “Don’t give up yet, I will ask her friends to pray.” And Frieda is getting better. She is still there in that place but she has started to get better, surrounded by the prayers of her friends.

Covered in prayer by faithful friends…I want to be prayed for like that.

Now, Jesus was in Jerusalem at the time of Passover and He asked the disciples to go and make the place ready for them to share the Passover meal.  It is near the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus goes later to pray, where He asks the disciples to stay awake and pray with Him, to pray for Him. It is in this Upper room where He shares the wine and the bread.  It is the place where Jesus tells them that He will be betrayed by one of them and in this Upper room Jesus tells Peter, you will deny knowing Me; not once but three times.  And in this place, after the Passover meal; where He shares more than food,  Jesus says to Peter, do not worry; I have prayed for you that your faith will not fail…the comfort of Christ.

Covered in prayer by Jesus…I want to be prayed for like that.

“He reached down from on high and took hold of me;

The Lord was my support.  He brought me out into a spacious place.”

Psalm 18:16-19

I am…I love that.