Skip to main content

mighty rushing wind.

I don't have too many distinct memories of Pentecost before today. I mean I've always known the day and what it meant but it isn't often a widely celebrated day. The one other memory I have is from when I was a freshman at Auburn, at Sunday Night Worship for the Wesley Foundation. I remember someone cut out little tongues of fire and had them blown down from big fans in the balcony.

But yesterday--this Pentecost--was different. I started the day like this:

And suddenly there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting... [acts 2.2]

Each Sunday morning I help lead Sunday School for a Kindergarten class. Our classroom is a small ger. When I woke up in the morning, I could already hear the wind. By the time we arrived at church, in our small ger, it was even stronger. You could hear the wind all around. We were sharing wooshing, violent, rushing wind sounds with the children like we imagined it was on that morning and the children were all enjoying being loud. Then, as if it were planned, the top flap on the roof of our ger caught some wind and began making loud noises and allowed for some wind to come in and fill our ger. It wasn't magical or anything and I'm sure it was a lot less violent then on that Pentecost morning, but it sure was incredible to be reminded that it was a real day, seemingly much like ours.

I imagine this day for the followers. I imagine upon their first wake they too knew this day was different. It's like the calm before a storm, you just know that something is different in the air. Here, too, that seemed to be the case. On Saturday, the temperatures were in the high 70s, maybe even reaching 80. But then, Sunday, the high was barely 55. It was obviously different, special.

I imagine everyone together, experiencing it all together. I imagine the chitter chatter and their reaction. I imagine their feelings and thoughts when ..they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance... [acts 2.4]

I imagine the languages swirling around in the wind, resting on ears and speaking sometimes without comprehension for everyone. As my life has come to exist in other tongues, I've realized that comprehension is often depicted less through words and more through interpretation. Interpretation relies on the heart, it is seen in eyes and gestures and is felt through communion with the other person.

There is comfort and freedom in not being able to understand everything that is said. There is freedom because it allows me to listen with my heart rather than my ears alone. As discouraging as it is not to be able to understand everything sometimes, I'm grateful for the ability to love in a different way.

I did not magically understand languages or have some great enlightenment about life this Pentecost. Although I do not speak Mongolian and it will never be my mother language, I have found peace and been able to depict that the words that are being said are ...describing God's mighty works! [acts 2:11]

Pentecost is coming to mean a celebration beyond all barriers--coming together with other believers and comprehending with our hearts.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

naked gers.

though they are dainty, they are still yellow and a welcomed sight after such a long winter.
summer school is essentially code for: let's play outside.
blue skies are in abundance and make me feel anything but blue.
naked gers are almost as much fun as clothed ones.

an ant story.

it won't be as cute as a baby story, on tlc, but it is a story.
a story of a family. a colony. scavengers.
this, my friends is the story of the ants who took up residence in my work desk drawer.
it's a friday afternoon and i was thinking of a snack from my food drawer [yes, i have a food drawer].
i knew i had some rice cakes in there and i was hungry for just that.
as i opened the door, my mouth flung ajar, for what did i see but a million ants. that's right, a million.
i had seen ants all morning, here and there, but not enough to be alarmed. i thought they were the lone rangers--exploring out on their own. little did i know, they were scouting out the rest of the desk for crumbs and goodies.
i looked at the ants for probably a minute straight--doing nothing, simply mesmerized by their pure existence.

i snapped back into reality and tried to find the source...what were they after?!
it sure wasn't the rice cakes because there wasn't even a single one on them [not sure …

"...a vital piece of luggage..."

3 months. 90 days. just yesterday. forever.

It has been 3 months since I left mongolia. Some days it feels like I was there just yesterday while others it feels like these have been the longest 3 months of my life.

I neglect writing about this painful time because I still can't seem to find the right words that could describe the emotions and thoughts that I have.

No words suffice.

No amount of tears calm.

No hugs or "it's gonna get better"s really change much.

I ache. I long to be in that place again.

Yesterday, Erin and I were talking about what we say and think when people ask 1. "If we miss Mongolia?" and 2. "What do we miss the most?"

If you know us at all, you know that the first question will hardly make us pause, it will cause us to chuckle and say, "Yes, I miss Mongolia desperately." And that is the truth. Which always leads to the second question. Which is harder to answer.

I usually give the answer "The people are what I miss the …