Blackpool

4/12/13 - 4/16/13

The first notable experience of our Blackpool experience was sitting in near-standstill traffic, cramped in a 17-passenger van with luggage for as many people, for over an hour. The second one was one of our leaders getting in a fender-bender with a granny. Some other ones included a leader's iPhone and wallet being stolen. People were sick, and comfort zones were stretched. But all that is nothing. The trip was incredible.

We arrived to springtime in Blackpool, a welcome change. Actually, our church was in Ansdell, not too far from Blackpool, but a completely different environment — well-to-do, suburban. The trip was very uncomfortable, with all our bags, so it was nice to stretch out and walk around the churchyard, which was in bloom. I was assigned a house with 5 other girls from my team, in the home of a family of 5, with one shower for 9 of us to share. (That's one example of comfort zones being stretched.) The six of us stayed in a bonus room type area. The house was huge and the host family was so hospitable. Like, it was just so natural for them, the whole family but especially the mother. We didn't feel as if we imposed at all.

We split into teams and some of us helped with a youth group meeting in Blackpool. I love the novelty factor we have, being Americans. It's really funny how many people (regardless of age) seem to think all Americans know each other — do we know Katy Perry? or… well, really just Katy Perry… Hm.

Blackpool has a bad reputation. It used to be a huge holiday center, and still is; but it now has a host of problems to accompany that. There is a lot of poverty, debauchery, drug abuse, etc. Interestingly, the city has a great gift for hospitality. The church we were partnering with has a desire to call that gift back to the forefront of the town's identity. So, Saturday, we went to help serve breakfast to some homeless / struggling people on a particular estate in Blackpool. We split up with different assignments: some in the kitchen, some serving food, some clearing tables, even some going out on the streets to see who they could find to minister to. My job was to clear tables. In doing so, I was afforded a lot of time to actually talk to the people who came for a meal. At first, I was not excited. Starting conversations is not my strong suit. And the environment is not the smiliest.

I'm going to change the names of the people I talked to this morning. I approached a woman called Rachael. She didn't wear the most open expression on her face. I sat down beside her and asked, "How are you doing today?" She responded, "Well, to be honest, I'm having a terrible day. I'm sorry, I don't want to talk about it. I'll talk about it with these people, they know me. You look like a nice lady, but I don't know you, and I only talk about things like this with people I know." But as she talked, she began to tear up, and within seconds she was pouring her heart out to me. She was facing a life-changing appointment that week, and it was breaking her heart. I spent a good long while with her, just listening. I got to pray for and prophesy over her, and believe for healing with her. Then we talked a little more. When she found out I was from Tennessee, her face just lit up, and she gave me the biggest hug! Her favorite wrestler is from Tennessee. I was delighted that she was delighted. I totally love this woman. I had to get back to my task, but I came back and talked with her a little more before I left. She and I took a photo together, but she only agreed to do so if I would not show it to anyone.

I talked to more people, and then I sat down with an elderly gentleman called Reuben. His story is one of the most heartbreaking ones I've ever heard — loss after tragic loss. I felt so, so heavy as a result, but I spent time with him to love him and pray with him. Father, please redeem the losses in my friend's life.

The experience was way different than I had been expecting. It was really hard, but really rewarding. I am so grateful I got to connect with some sweet people, and they honored me by opening their hearts and sharing their stories. Later, someone in our group paid me the compliment of saying that it was "stunning" to watch the way I interacted with the people that morning. I felt a little bashful, because I didn't realize anyone was observing me.

After food service was over, our group reunited. We went to the top of the tower in Blackpool (one of those glass-bottom viewing platform things), and engaged in more intercessory prayer. It was very cold and very windy. It was good. That night, we went to an Indian restaurant to celebrate team member Shannon's birthday. The company was good, and the food was OK.

Sunday, I was extremely honored to be chosen to deliver a message at the Sunday morning service. I spoke on Forgiveness. The story of my message is interesting it itself… I had to prepare it as a school assignment, but I was stuck. I couldn't even fake it — not even a textbook explanation of the topic — for weeks. It wasn't until I actually released forgiveness for a certain person that I could write it, and when I did so, I finished my entire message (Keynote presentation and all) in about 3 hours. Incredible.

I was nervous delivering my message, and I know my eye contact was somewhat lacking. The environment was perfect for my first time doing something like that. The congregation was very gracious, and had lots of experience with outreach students giving messages. And it's so interesting, how much I enjoyed speaking. I remember delivering a speech to a class of about 25 in university. My vision was narrow, I couldn't catch my breath, I was hot, and even broke out in a rash across my chest while speaking. This was nothing like that… Which seems miraculous enough to me.

I moved, maybe a bit too quickly, through my message and into ministry time. Then my fellow students came up to pray for anyone who needed it. One man came up to me for prayer, but before telling me what he needed, he blessed me to travel the world and deliver this message of Forgiveness. Throughout the day, person after person came up to me with great words of encouragement. And it wasn't encouragement as in, "You did a good job." Here are some specific things I remember people saying to me:
"You've stirred up something really important in our church."
"We all needed to hear that."
"Each sentence was like a drop of water, wearing away something big."

The church also requested that I e-mail them my sermon, and one particular member (who had been very excited during my message) shared with me some more passages, and even linguistic information, that I can add to my message next time.

After, some of us held prophetic presbytery for about 2.5 hours. Instead of 5 minutes per person, like we do at my home church, we got 15 minutes per person. I was worried how a team of 3 would fill the time, but we actually found ourselves outrunning the timer most times! And I was blown away by the increase in my spiritual sensitivity. I was speaking out stuff that was actually happening in the natural, whereas I usually speak more into spiritual matters. A couple came in and I saw that the woman was great at mothering young women who were in difficult situations (abuse, single parenthood, things of that nature). When she gained their trust and brought them in, her husband would be a great man to re-parent them, even if they would naturally have a distrust of men and father figures. I saw that this would be a one-at-a-time type thing, too. When I was talking about this, they started looking at each other and nudging each other, saying, "That's what we're doing with [girl's name] right now!" I also had a picture of a young man walking through a prestigious university, and there was a symbol in that; but it turned out he is a student at Cambridge. In talking to other fellow students, they experienced greater revelation that day, as well. It was so interesting, and encouraging to hear from the Lord in that way. I want to take that back home with me…

We had another youth meeting that night, which consisted of us watching Toy Story 3.

The next morning, I was looking through some prophetic words I have received in the past, and have written down to refer back to. It was funny how many of them refer to my voice, and to me having a larger stage or platform. I think me delivering that message was the start of something big. More, Lord!

We spent some more community-loving time in Blackpool, where I bought one man's lunch, and was given a chocolate caramel candy by an 83-year-old man (Eric) in a deerstalker hat.

In the evening, one of our students shared a message on "ungodly beliefs" — things that seem absolutely true based on your perceptions and experiences, but are absolutely false based on the truth of Who God Is. Although I was on the ministry team afterwards, a big ungodly belief surfaced, so I went to my fellow students for some prayer. Four of us late-20-year-old women ended up in a circle, talking and praying for each other about basically the same issues. It was quite amusing. It was also really helpful.

We left Ansdell on Tuesday morning, and our driver took us back a different way — through the Lake District. I was so pleased when I realized where we were going. We only went along the border, but gosh, it was gorgeous. I've wanted to see the Lake District for a long time, and even this taste of it from a trundling minibus filled my soul up. Do you think God ever calls missionaries to the Lakes?

We had the next day off. We spent it shopping. That's all I have to say about that.

Sheep on the drive up.

Foggy drive up.

A bird getting in the way of the tower

Aaron at the tower

Baby in the air

Me in the air

Seaweed

"It works!"

Daffodils everywhere.

Mary sharing on Monday morning.

Abbie and Matt leading acoustic worship on Monday morning.

Our house mum made us the best pancakes I've ever had.

Lake District

Sheep of the Lake District.

Our minibus, with Bethshan in the window.

Love in York, Live in Newcastle

4/10/13, 4/11/13

A nice surprise was getting to spend a free day in York. It is an old, old, old walled city. It's lovely. I'd been there once in February of 2008, and that's one of the coldest times I have spent anywhere. I wore extra clothes because I couldn't shake that memory. Fortunately, the weather belied my expectation.

Mary and I chose to strike out together. We walked the walls on our way to the quilt museum. The lady at the museum told me about a café next door, as I did not wish to purchase entry. Café may be an accurate word, but it is not what I expected. It was extremely posh, located in the back of a shop that sold imported cheese, olives, and wine. I was the youngest and least wealthy person in the shop, by a very long shot. But I did not realize this until I had already ordered a pot of tea. (I guess the waiter's confusion at my entrance should have tipped me off.) At least I had Oliver Twist to keep me company. (I am a slow reader.) I also met an American archaeologist named Elizabeth. She had been living there since the 60s or 70s and gave me some tips on places to go, including a free art exhibit.

Mary and I made our way to the Shambles. It is just an old commerce street; I find the name amusing. The buildings are kind of tilted in, or overhang the street. I found out that it was because they used to sell meat there, and that kept the meat out of the sun. These days, they sell things like local Shetland wool (Mary's souvenir), and porcelain egg cups painted with the Union Jack (my souvenir).

Since I was the navigator, I decided to go through back streets to get to the Shambles. It took us through a residential area, where we saw a blind man walking with a friend. Says Mary, "Do you want to go pray for him?" Says I, "OK," though I had no faith for it. As I followed her, though, I thought, "Why wouldn't I?" and began to believe for good things. Mary approached him politely, and asked, "Has anyone ever prayed for your eyes?" "No!" he said, with an expression of awe and wonder and hunger and love and I don't know what else. The sense he conveyed was, "I can't believe someone cares!" It turns out he lost his sight in a surgery that saved his life. He thought it would come back, but the doctors couldn't say for sure. Mary and I prayed for him, and then talked to him for a while. His name is Gordon, and he was SO sweet. He just overflowed with love. He kept kissing our hands, our heads, and hugging us (in a very pure way), asking us what we looked like, asking us what we were doing, etc. His caretaker took a picture of us all together, so we told Gordon that he would see what we look like someday.

Gordon didn't receive his sight immediately. I believe that he will, but Mary and I realized that that's not necessarily the point. We were able to share God's love and compassion for this man, who was obviously so starved. Isn't loving someone supernatural sometimes?

After some shopping, we went to the free art exhibit, which was not interesting despite the hype. The very old church it was in was interesting, though. There were people entombed beneath the floor. One gravestone, still somewhat readable, dated from 1692.

We got a pasty (Mary's first), then went to Yorkminster. I believe it is the oldest gothic cathedral in Europe. It's gigantic and indescribably beautiful. The full tour is quite dear, and we didn't want to pay for it; but we did get to stand inside and marvel. If we had the whole evening, I would have stayed for evensong. I'll bet it sounds incredible. They did pray the Lord's prayer while we were in there, which was a cool experience.

We found a bookstore with beautiful English books. We found a music store, which specializes in traditional instruments, and has loads of ukuleles. I got a book with 1001 Irish dance tunes, and two tin whistles in unusual keys (F and Bb). Highly successful day.

On the way back, I saw a horse in the hills. I may forget to look up the origins of it before I post this update, but I think it's an ancient sculpture type thing. Look at the pictures to get an idea. I was pleased to be the one in the bus to discover it, and I enjoyed it alone for a while before notifying the others.

The next day, our worship team got to play at Grey (as in Earl Grey)'s Monument in Newcastle. They played for an hour or two in the chilly square. There were lots of people around, and the rest of us got to mix with the crowd, and go out looking for more people to share God's love with. Misty, Adam, and I met a young man who was really hungry for truth. Adam got to share his testimony with him, and we prayed for him. He was excited to hear some of the things we shared with him. I also prophesied over a group of three teenage girls, basically just encouraging them in who they already are. It's kind of cool to prophesy over teenagers and children.

Newcastle's university is quite lovely, by the way.

For dinner, we went to the home of this awesome couple who has provided most of our meals for this trip. (Yes, our outreach has been catered!) We have two vegetarians, four gluten-free folks, and the rest are meat eaters. Jim and Marna have been so gracious. Our vegetarian meals have been exquisite. So they cooked us all a load of curry, and vanilla ice cream served in cored pineapples. (Are they shells? What are pineapple shells called?) Their house is on the river, and they have dogs: two things that are good for my soul. I have had precious little time to process my thoughts on this trip, so it was healthy for me to spend this God time by the river.

Now look at some pictures, while I start writing about Blackpool.

Along the walls.

The church with the art exhibit, St. Mary's. There are like 4 St Mary's somethings in York.

Mary and I prayed with all kinds of strangers.

York Minster.

The worship team at the Earl Grey monument.

There are so many angels here.

Newcastle University.

At Jim and Marna's river.

I document the important things.

It is fun to watch poodles run.

Oh yes.

The Hungriest Children

Tuesday was one of the wildest days I've experienced so far. Simply put, our group of 17 Americans went to a public school to share the love of God with kids ages 11-15, sharing testimonies, encouraging, prophesying, and answering questions. Ridiculous favor! One of the Bethshan people works at this school, and his department head is very open. He was a real man of integrity and peace, and we bless him.

We split up into multiple groups, and rotated throughout the day. One person from each group shared a testimony, and then we took some time to share God's love with individual students, as many as we could. We basically just practiced prophetic ministry on them. We phrased it as "sharing encouraging words," but it was the same thing, because that's what prophetic ministry is. We just asked God what He loves about these kids, how He sees them, what He wants to share today. Even now I can scarcely believe we were allowed to do that! I don't know where in the States that would have been possible, especially in a state-funded school. Encouraging the younger age range was really sweet. They didn't mind displaying emotions on their faces, and I saw some of the biggest, sweetest grins.

After we encouraged, we allowed the kids and teachers to ask questions. The children's questions were great. They ranged from "What is a corn dog?" to "What does God sound like?" Some classes were more curious than others. It was really fascinating. We realized that most of these kids had absolutely no religious background, unlike that which we take for granted in the States. Especially being from the South, it's not foolish to assume that most people have at least heard a summary of the story of David and Goliath, for example. But at this school, there were children who had no idea what we were talking about when we referred to it.

We definitely had guidelines on what we could and could not share. We weren't there to preach or convert; just to share and encourage. However, I can tell you that our very bold Chris basically outlined the Gospel message for the last class of the day — what God did when He sent Jesus, and what that means for us. Nothing to lose at that point!

I went between the same two teachers' classes all day. I think I was in 5 classes total. One was our man of peace, the department head. He gave us the best introductions, and you could tell he cared so much about his kids. He is a really, really, really good man. The other teacher was also a really good man, and introduced us impartially and respectfully. It wasn't until question time that he shared with us that he doesn't believe in God. He was a little bristly and seemed to expect we wanted to see him converted that very minute. That wasn't our agenda at all. The next class period with him, he asked some pointed questions about the Bible's attitude towards women, because Jamie was the one who shared her testimony. She was so ready for those questions, and answered them very well. At the end of the third class session (when Chris had shared the Gospel), this teacher was in on the deep questions, along with the rest of the children, asking how we hear from God. (In case you're wondering, God is always talking, and anyone can hear Him because He wants to talk to His kids.) As we were leaving, I went up to this man because I wanted to honor him for allowing us in his classroom. "I just want to thank you for having us here today. I know you don't agree with our views, but you treated us with such respect. We really appreciate it." He kind of brushed off the thanks, but as I shook his hand, he said, "Maybe one day I will agree with you." My heart is full just thinking of that moment again. He went from totally hard-hearted to at least thinking about what we had said. Who knows what seeds were planted that day? Thank You, Lord!

There was at least one student who accepted Jesus that day, and another one whose foot was healed. He went from being in terrible pain any time he put weight on his heel, to jumping up and down and telling all his friends about it in amazement. I would have loved to see his face!

We ate lunch with the students in the middle of the day. I ended up talking to a small group of girls. I don't know what age they were, maybe 12-13? There was one in particular who was really sweet. I got to share some encouragement with them, and answer general questions about America. She sought me out to give me a hug before I left. A few days later, my teammate Misty told me that a girl had found her on Facebook, and asked for my details, so that she could contact me. She said I really inspired her. That warmed my heart. I hope it's the same girl.

By the end of the day, the department head I mentioned was trying to figure out if he could get us back in his school before we left. The students and the faculty alike were so, so hungry, most of them living in absolute spiritual poverty. They responded beautifully. Lord, You fill the hungry with good things. Reward their seeking. Now that the door is open, flood their hearts with more of Your Love. Thank You for that opportunity, and continue to give us crazy favor in this land.

Love,

Chelsea

PS: I don't have any pictures from this day, because I thought the privacy laws for children were like they are in the States. Turns out it wasn't a problem. Oh well. Have a Highland Cow that Mary and I saw as we rambled in the countryside that evening.

Our First Weekend, and Revival History

On Saturday, we Americans ran a workshop on Prophetic Evangelism. Chris taught on healing, and Naomi on the prophetic. We had a good mix of people, even though it is still Easter holiday time, and lots of students were out of town.

I love the prophetic. I love to receive words, but I think I love to give them more. On Friday, I was re-listening to a recorded word that Gary Morgan had given me. (He is a Welsh prophet, to oversimplify things. He has crazy revelation.) The next day at the workshop, during a practice game, one of my partners (Mr Finch) gave me that same word again. It was really encouraging for me to hear it again (especially since it was fresh on my mind), and encouraging for my partner to get the same insight as a person who is well-known for operating in the prophetic 24/7.

After that, we split up in groups went out on the streets to look for people to pray for. In my group were Mr Finch and a Malaysian student. Mr Finch is bold like a lion (I told him so); he's also very peaceful and wise, so he was a perfect person to be in a group with. There were several divine appointments that day. An elderly woman got her ankle healed; she had been using a cane beforehand, and her husband was astounded when she put it up and started stomping up and down to test it out.

Sunday, we went to a church service in Newcastle. The three local Bethshan campuses came together. Worship was wonderful. I felt really connected. Their worship band handed it over to our students after a few songs, and of course they did a great job. Shannon taught a powerful message on forgiveness.

We went to the Finch household to hang out for a while that evening. They live in a Victorian terrace house, about 150 years old. It's one of the most beautiful houses I've ever seen. Mr and Mrs Finch told us story after story about how God has been faithful to them, providing supernaturally, beyond all reason. I want a life like that.

I don't have pictures of most of this — I haven't been taking as many as I normally would. But I think that's good, because I'm taking it all in. Sometimes you sacrifice the moment to record a snapshot of the memory. There's definitely a balance.

On Monday, we got to go to different sites that are connected with Celtic Christianity, and revival history in this area. Although I'm relatively new to this world, I'm fascinated by Holy Spirit moving en masse; and I've been drawn to Celtic Christianity for a long time. I can't tell you much about the Revival sites we visited at this point. But my favorite thing we did was walk along a rock beach on the northeast coast, to a site that used to be tidally connected to where St Hilda of Whitby had a prayer tower. The tide would go out, and she would walk a causeway to this tower. The tide would come in, stranding her for something like 10 hours. She would stay there and pray the whole time, until the tide went back out. This was something like 1300 years ago, so the tower is no longer there. But we went to the point, and prayed until the wind and the cold pushed us back to the bus. The ocean awakens something very deep within me, and I felt really connected to that site. I want a prayer tower.

Still-life.

The nicest sunset.

Mr & Mrs Smith at All Saints Hall

The humble site of a Holy Spirit movement in the late 19th or early 20th century.

Jen being Jen.

At the coast.

Mary.

Gorse to make me feel at home.

Holy Island and the HOP

April 10, 2013

Friday was for Lindisfarne. This is something I'd been looking forward to so much. I saw the island of Lindisfarne from a train window on a return trip from Edinburgh in 2008. Something about it captured my imagination, before I even knew what it was. When I found out about the island, I knew I had to go there. It is a place majorly associated with Celtic Christianity. If you've heard of Aiden or Cuthbert (the Fire of the North!), or the Lindisfarne Gospels (similar to the book of Kells), you can associate them with Holy island.

I was pleased to ride in a car with three people a little older than me: Corey, Adam, Becky. And I was privileged for the two men to share their amazing testimonies with me. They were both radically converted after experiencing the love and power of the Father. I was nearly in tears.

On the way, we stopped near a castle in the town of Bamburgh. (Say it as you would Edinburgh.) Though the castle is in Bamburgh, it is NOT called Bamburgh Castle. This is what a man passionate about the truth told us as we unfolded from our vehicles. I will carry on his campaign to get it known by its real name, whenever I remember what that was.

We walked past the castle to the beach, where we engaged in intercessory prayer, speaking more life over this land that used to burn with the fire of God. It was cold, so cold, and windy. Yet Tom walked around our circle, barefoot and praying.

Because Lindisfarne is connected to the mainland by a tidal causeway, we had to get going. Once we got there, we only had about an hour before the tide would come in and strand us for the night. (I wouldn't have minded that.) We spent some time in St Mary's church. We brought some Nashville into the chapel by singing hymns. It was beautiful because we are all good to great singers, and we love to worship. Some tourists wandered in and thought we were part of their tour.

We then went to the beach, where Cuthbert was known to stand waist-deep in the water, praying for hours. Otters are said to have swum around him, to provide warmth as he prayed. Several in our group took the opportunity to take off their shoes and socks, roll up their jeans, and wade in up to their ankles or calves, standing in prayer for a few minutes. (I was not one of them. It was cold.) One of our group, Jen, went a step further. Rather, several steps further. We watched our tall, red headed warrior wade out nearly to her waist, raise her hands in prayer, and stay longer than any of them. Because of the tide, we had to call her back. Who knows how long she would have stayed otherwise?

I needed much more time on Lindisfarne. It was hard to not explore, to not seek quiet. I wanted so badly to take off with my camera, to see what was there and to meditate. Despite the interesting experiences, I left the island disappointed for that reason. Well, all I could do was ask God to take me back there. I think I will return.

It was interesting to see the waters rush in to the causeway as we left. It was much faster than I would have expected. On the drive back, we saw lots of newborn black lambs. I probably made lots of high-pitched noises about them.

That night, we went to the House of Prayer (HOP). It is worship and prayer- again, mostly intercessory for the land. Pastor Lois asked us Americans to come up and pray for their children, and then she asked us to sing one of the songs we had sung in the chapel that day. At that point, something broke for me. I spent the rest of the night lost in worship and the goodness of God. I had really been struggling with some personal issues, even right before the HOP service began. But whatever He did in me that night, I know I wasn't the same the next day.

I really don't know any other name for this castle.

My favorite kind of grass.

Aaron, Matt, and barefoot Tom.

Driving on the causeway into Lindisfarne

Our host mom likes this picture. I like that she likes it.

St Aiden and Lindisfarne Castle.

St Cuthbert's coffin was carried around England for many years, to protect it from Viking invaders.

Inside St Mary's

Fishing

Chris and Matt watching Jen be Jen

Waters rushing in on the way out