I always expect heavy spiritual warfare during the SportQuest Baton Rouge project. Any time significant Kingdom work is happening in a place where the enemy has strongholds (Gardere), there is resistance. This summer, our coaching team was strong (age, maturity, experience, close friendships, etc.), so Satan would try to divide us. Since January, there has been significant fruit in ministry – increased trust with the Hispanic community, baptisms of youth from Gardere at Renew, the growth of the student ministry, etc. – so Satan would do whatever he could to stall the momentum.
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| The SportQuest Baton Rouge team in 2019: Front Row L to R: Dani, Me, Jordyn, Amy; Back Row L to R: Jack, Luke, Marnus, Michael |
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| Kids from the neighborhood participate in team building games with SportQuest coaches and volunteers |
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| Me with Kassidy and Unique, who was baptized the Sunday before Easter |
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| Team building games during our weekly G-1 "God First" meeting with students at Renew |
Christians are not promised anything is off limits in spiritual warfare (see the entire book of Job and stories of countless martyrs past and present). However, we know God is sovereign in all things, that all things will always work together for God’s purposes, and that victory is His because of the work Christ already accomplished on the cross. Spiritual warfare is intense and can be life-threatening, but winning and losing does not hang in the balance.
“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)
The Attack
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| 2017 Lock-in (the first year) |
This year I also planned to use the Wednesday lock-in to make progress in an ongoing mission in the neighborhood: helping black and Hispanic youth connect with one another and bringing down barriers between these groups in Gardere. This is something many community leaders are working together towards, but it has been challenging. I have great relationships with young people in both groups but rarely have the chance to spend time with them together. So, for the lock-in, I worked hard to invite black and Hispanic youth to attend. The final list of youth was 17 kids and an almost perfect 50-50 split between the two groups.
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| Two of the girls participating in SportQuest soccer camp play a warm-up game called "blanket volleyball" |
I picked the teens up on Wednesday and we started games. About an hour into games, friends from church arrived to prepare dinner. I stepped into the kitchen to assist. The first thing they needed to do was warm some food up. There is a large, industrial gas stove that is over 20 years old. To function, it requires a series of pilot lights to be manually lit in a specific order. I had watched people light the stove and lit it myself on multiple occasions over the years. I turned the gas on and then turned a knob on the stove to let gas into the area below the griddle on the stove, which is where the first pilot lights need to be lit. It took me several tries to light the handheld torch I planned to use to ignite the pilot lights under the griddle. When I finally got it to work, I knelt down in front of the griddle so I could see the pilot lights and insert the torch.
I was about a foot away from and eye-level with the opening under the griddle when I lit the torch and moved it toward the pilot lights. Because there was a few extra seconds (maybe 20-30) for gas to build up, when I brought the torch close, the gas ignited and exploded outward (from the opening) and directly into my face. I heard the explosion and saw fire come directly into my eyes. The force of the explosion knocked over a friend standing behind me. It sent me reeling back as well.
On the ground, I instantly felt pain in my face from my upper lip to my forehead, especially across my eyes. I reached up to touch my face and hair (eyebrows?) came away on my fingers. I tried not to panic and asked someone to call 9-1-1. One of my teammates, Amy, had come into the kitchen at this point and quickly dialed.
While we waited for the fire department and ambulance to arrive, Amy called in two additional teammates, Marnus and Dani. Because of the pain, I had my eyes closed and wasn’t speaking much. I was breathing (hyperventilating?) and groaning. They stood me up and blindly led me to a sink in the kitchen to run cold water over my face. An ironic thought popped into my head – at SportQuest, we often do trust-building games that require us to be blindfolded and led by teammates. I didn’t know I’d have an opportunity to live out one of those games…
While the water ran and I focused on breathing, they took turns praying out loud over me and holding my hands. I was so thankful for those prayers because I was so shaken with panic that when I tried to mentally recite the Lord’s Prayer I couldn’t make it past the first line: “Our Father, who art in heaven, Our Father, who art in heaven…”
I focused on Dani and Marnus’ prayers to try to resist giving into the panic. Truthfully, I have never been more afraid in my entire life and the intensity and the battle for control surprised me. It was like being divided into three parts and then having each part go to war with the others. One part was hyper aware of pain in my face; another part could hear prayers for healing and protection being called out in English and in Dutch; yet another part was being assaulted by deluge of stinging, racing, irrational, worst-case-scenario thoughts.
What will my face look like? [Images of burn victims from TV shows and the news rise to the surface of my mind.]Will I be able to see? I briefly looked around after the explosion. I think I could see clearly then. Maybe my vision is ok. But all of the pain is in my eyes. I want my parents. They’re in Kentucky. My parents are in Kentucky. Who is going to be in the hospital for me? I want my parents. Will they be able to come? With this much pain, the burns are definitely going to scar. What are the scars going to look like? What am I going to look like? How much of my hair burned? The scent of burned hair was strong around me, like it was inside of my nose.Who should I call? We have to let people know what is going on. Will I still be able to do my job? How is my life going to change? Nothing is going to be the same.
I tried to focus in on the prayers while frantically tapping my fingers on my palm (or whoever’s hand I was holding) and my feet on the ground, channeling the burst of energy from the panic (adrenaline) into the movement instead of allowing it to multiply the horrible thoughts. “Let this water having Your healing power,” I heard Dani call out above me, as the water continued to pour over my face. Marnus was still praying in Dutch. Amy passed the 9-1-1 phonecall to my friend who was in the kitchen when it happened.
The fire department arrived first and put some sort of gel on my face and a mask over the gel. The paramedics arrived next and put me on a stretcher. I had to answer questions (allergies, birthday, name, etc.). It hurt to talk but I had enough presence and control to respond. They wheeled the stretcher through the gym where the teens were still playing games. Mercifully, the explosion wasn’t loud enough to disrupt the activities and Amy was wise enough not to create a stir when she pulled Dani and Marnus into the kitchen. The rest of the team continued to lead. Worried about frightening the youth, I stayed as still as possible on the way out. As they loaded me onto the ambulance, I could hear Amy taking charge, putting Dani on the ambulance while she stayed at the church to step into my vacated position.
Amy went back inside, circled up the teens, coaches, and volunteers who were still there, and led a prayer over me. Then, in a sign of remarkable fortitude and leadership under pressure, she directed everyone in a return to the itinerary, refusing to allow what had happened prevent the proclamation of the Gospel. Satan was going to lose the battle over the teen’s and the team’s attention even if he succeeded in removing me from the lock-in.
On the ambulance, there was a lot of activity. The pain was overwhelming. I kept my eyes closed. I couldn’t hear sirens, but Amy told me later they were on when the ambulance pulled away from the church. Dani was to my right and there were 2-3 paramedics. One of them was putting an IV into my right arm and the other was asking questions. A lot of the questions were things I had already answered and would be asked repeatedly over the next hour or so. Dani said later they were probably using them to check my responsiveness. Answering them over and over, irritation was mixing with the panic that was still pulsing in my chest and mind.
They gave me pain meds. Dani had my phone. I am not sure how I knew that. I called out the pass code to her and asked her to start making phone calls. Parents first. They didn’t answer, but called back, and she put my dad on speaker for what was probably one of the worst phone calls of his life (sorry, Dad). I struggled not to crumble into hysteria. It helped to hear his voice.
I heard the paramedics relaying the injuries out loud. Female, 30, burns, left arm and face. Degree undetermined. Gas stove explosion.
Of all the thoughts that were bursting in and out of focus, one of the most dominant was that I was, and would be, alone.
I normally do fine living far away from where I grew up. I rarely struggle with homesickness. Louisiana has been home since 2010. But it isn’t where my parents are. And I am 30 and single. Mostly, I am content in my singleness. While I would love for the Lord to provide a partner I can serve and lead alongside, I understand singleness is a gift from the Lord that in many ways expands my capacity for ministry. (See 1 Corinthians 7).
But in those minutes on the ambulance, while paramedics tried to work on reducing physical injuries, Satan worked desperately to use my fear and his lies to open wounds in my heart and spirit: no one is going to be at the hospital. You are alone. Your parents are too far away to get here. They are never going to see you whole again. You will be ugly. You thought singleness was a gift? Now it will be a trap. You will be single forever. No one will see past the burns on your face. Maybe if you had worked less over the past few years and spent time dating you would have a boyfriend or husband on his way to the hospital and you wouldn’t have to do this alone…always alone. You chose this, now you have deal with the consequences of that choice.
Alone, alone, alone! Satan often works at a whisper level, subtle in his deceptions. But the volume was turned all the way up. The deluge of thoughts was now like standing in front of a firehose, being hit with such force that breathing takes effort. Yet, I felt God’s presence rising and expanding as a shield, countering each lie with Truth that doesn’t need to be loud because it is eternal. Unshakeable.
Not alone. No regrets about how I have invested my life up until this point. I chose the right things. The Gospel is always worth it. There is peace regardless of the outcome. I can be ok with whatever happens. Peace that surpasses all understanding. God will rescue me. But even if He doesn’t, I will praise Him. If I had more time, I would take the same path. Don’t fear what can harm the body. Death, where is your sting? I have hope that is an anchor for my soul. God looks at the heart not the outside appearance. If this is the finish line, I’m good with the race I have run.
Dani had my hand. The team was praying. Dani was calling people who were beginning to join in prayer. I asked her to call Phyllis and Karen, two women who are mothers to me in Louisiana, and several other close friends.
At the hospital, the doctors worked quickly to assess the damage done by the fire. They rapidly asked questions about my insurance, medical history, and, most frightening, who had power of attorney. They wanted to cut my shirt off, but it was the gold Playing With Purpose shirt that I fought hard to get SportQuest to create for this summer (purple shirts keep getting shot down and gold was the next best thing). In a moment of clarity, when the doctor asked if he could cut off the shirt, I replied, “I’d rather you not.” They managed to stretch it off over my head.
The doctors weren’t sure what the gel was, but I heard one of the paramedics explain the fire department put in on. The doctors decided to take it off. They couldn’t see the burns clearly under it. My pastor arrived. Dani was still there. They gently wiped the gel away. They didn’t say out loud to me what was going on, but I could tell by a breaking of tension in the room that it wasn’t as severe as they were expecting. There were also no burns on my left hand or arm, which I had heard the paramedics mention several times (even though I never told them which hand I had been holding the torch in when I tried to light the stove).
They gave me a second round of medicine in the IV and then put some sort of drops in my eyes and forced them open (I resisted reflexively because the pain was still centered around my eyes). There didn’t appear to be any damage to my vision. Had I been wearing glasses? I told them yes. Looks like the glasses saved your vision, they said. And the power of Jesus, I thought.
They wanted to transfer me to the burn unit for further evaluation. Did I have family with me? No, no family. The second round of pain meds was dulling the pain and my senses. I thought they would let my pastor or Dani come to the burn unit with me, but they moved them to a waiting room instead. Dani still had my phone. I sat alone in a room in the burn unit for what seemed like a long time. I didn’t want to touch my face, but I wanted to see it. A couple of nurses came in and out, but they didn’t let visitors in.
What I didn’t know while I sat in the burn unit room by myself is what God was doing in the waiting room. After Dani made a few phone calls, news spread to close friends and (dare I say?) family membersin Baton Rouge. In the time when I felt the most afraid and most regretted my singleness, people I dearly love and who have loved me so well over the past nine years came to the hospital and sat in the waiting room. It was a snapshot of the community the Lord has gifted me with here – people from different parts of the city, different denominations and churches, different racial backgrounds…His Kingdom on earth, in Baton Rouge, in the waiting room. (To all of you – thank you, so much! God used your presence to encourage me and to remind me of His care and provision.)
Sis Lynette, a prayer warrior who I have always looked up to, came into the room. I was surprised. She told me she just walked in and no one tried to stop her. I think she has some kind of special powers. Nurses who came in didn’t ask. She prayed with me and told me my face looked fine. That it wasn’t nearly as bad as she expected it to be based on the phone call she received. She didn’t think there were going to be scars. I was missing eyebrows, eyelashes, and some hair around my hairline. All would grow back.
Relief washed over me. No scars? That didn’t line up with what I knew about how close I had been to the fire, the charring smell that was still clinging to me, or what I had heard the fire fighters and paramedics who were treating me saying. The doctor came in a checked my vision a final time and then my lungs. In some gas explosions, the victim inhales gas before it is ignited, and the fire follows the trail of gas into their lungs, causing internal burns and permanent damage. My lungs are fine. The diagnosis: first degree burns, like a sunburn. Use some burn cream, avoid the sun for a while, and it will heal. Later I find one small blister the doctors overlooked, on my ear.
People might not believe me if I tried to explain, as I have in this blog post, but I know God decided to answer the prayers that were called out in the kitchen immediately after the explosion. He chose to heal and protect me. Satan lost on every front that night.
While some of my Baton Rouge family came to the hospital, numerous others showed up at the church to make sure the lock-in went well. They led worship, taught a Bible lesson, had small group discussions with the youth, played games, ate ice cream, and even spent the night, in the middle of a work week.
The SportQuest team was small, but mighty because of the work of God and the support of so many volunteers and partners. Later, on project evaluations, several team members reported Wednesday night as their favorite ministry opportunity during the week.
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| Girls Bible study discussion group at the lock-in |
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| Worship service at the lock-in, led by Renew Church worship team |
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| Jack leading the teens and coaches in a game of Tiger Ball at the lock-in |
Lessons
What happened that Wednesday was the most personal and direct spiritual warfare I have experienced (so far), as Satan tried to remove me from ministry by either killing or disabling me. God revealed a couple of major lessons that I want to share. First, He chose to protect me. And it was 100% clear to me that He chose to do that but certainly didn’t have to. He could have also chosen to allow me to be killed. Or He could have chosen to allow me to be severely burned and/or blinded and to walk a path of renegotiating life and ministry in a differently abled body. As this lesson of God’s choice and His sovereignty has sunk in, I have reflected on these Scriptures:
“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Neither are your ways My ways,”
Declares the Lord.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways
And My thoughts than your thoughts.”
(Isaiah 55:8-9)
Shadrach, Meshack and Abednego replied to him, “King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and He will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if He does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” (Daniel 3:16-18)
But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation. God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; one you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. (1 Peter 2:9-10)
Over the past few weeks, this idea of God's choice and my chosen-ness have impacted how I see my days and my ministry. Each one is a gift He didn't have to give me. I'm really thankful I get to be here and be healthy enough to continue the work He has called me to. I'm really thankful my life didn't end or drastically change, but I'm also very aware that it could have, and those other outcomes would have been OK, too. God is still good, whatever He chooses.
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| Coaching soccer in Tampa, where I almost didn't get to be! |
Second, God showed me just how much He owns the work that is being done here (and everywhere, really). There are no indispensable people. This is a truth I know but do not always live in. One way the sin of pride has manifested in my ministry from the beginning is the temptation I experience to take on too much responsibility and then to live in anxiety and stress because of how much work I am doing and how hard my life is and how many sacrifices I am making. It’s even tempting to feel good about myself (ugh, I know – pride is an ugly sin!) because of all the great work I am doing. (Notice how many times I have said “I” or “my” in the past couple of sentences?!). This is an ongoing struggle, but I have matured a lot over the past several years in this area.
Discipline is a sign of God’s love. One thing He has made clear to me through discipline and conviction and suffering is that the ministry belongs to Him; the gifts I am bringing to the ministry belong to Him; the power to draw people to Himself is His alone; each person I serve and meet is His creation…
The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in Him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. (Colossians 1:15-17)
Because it’s all His, and because things hold together in Him and not in me, I can live in freedom and glorify Him through my obedience to His call on my life and through my willingness to pick up responsibilities He wants me to pick up, lay down what (and even who) He asks me to let go of, and invite others to serve and lead alongside me. God is glorified most when His people work together in His power to accomplish His mission in the world.
Wednesday evening was one of the worst experiences of my life – but in the midst of that, there was something worth celebrating: the project went on without me. Nothing changed when I wasn’t there. Three years ago, I probably would have felt like it was impossible to have the SportQuest Baton Rouge project without me, but in the midst of the panic and fear of the incident on Wednesday, I had a peace about the continuing of the ministry in the hands of those who were present. I missed the most impactful part of the entire project and it was still impactful. The team the Lord has built around the ministry is incredible, and He can choose to let me contribute, but no outcomes hinge on my contributions. It’s all His, and He already did what was necessary when He went to the cross.
For Christ has already accomplished the purpose for which the law was given. As a result, all who believe in Him are made right with God…And that message is the very message about faith that we preach: If you openly declare that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is by believing in your heart that you are made right with God, and it is by openly declaring your faith that you are saved. As the Scriptures tell us, “Anyone who trusts in Him will never be disgraced.” Jew and Gentile are the same in this respect. They have the same Lord, who gives generously to all who call on Him. For, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Romans 10:4,9-13)
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| A picture of me 3-4 days after the gas explosion (notice the missing eyebrow) |
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