Way Truth Life

Thursday, August 30, 2012

The garbage dump people

July 28, 2000

The below story is one of the most fascinating I have ever heard. It comes from a reliable Christian friend. I first heard it last year but was able to document the details only a few days ago. It demonstrates the power of God's love to penetrate even the most closed cultures when His people are willing to lay down all for the Savior and take up His cross. It also demonstrates the outpouring of God's Spirit in these last days.

A missionary couple had been laboring in a certain Muslim country that I will not name for purposes of protection. They had become terribly discouraged in their attempts to share the gospel with the Muslims there, and they were about to quit and go home. However, they first decided to take a few days to fast and pray, asking the Lord for direction and guidance.

To their surprise, during this period of seeking, the Lord gave them this simple instruction, "Go to the garbage dump people." (In my humble experience, whenever God really speaks to us it is usually very succinct --short, to the point, with few words, very direct. I am always wary of long dissertations purportedly from God.)

The garbage dump people lived on the outskirts of this large Muslim city, the last people group anyone would normally ever want to visit. There are thousands of people there who literally live in the garbage dump. They have no other place to live. They actually comprise a city built on top of all the garbage. "Homes" are typically cardboard boxes. (My friend has photos.) People live off of what they find in the garbage. The stench is described as terrible.

The missionary couple hesitated, humanly not really wanting to go, but they decided that if the Lord was speaking to them they had better obey. (Good idea.)

They soon began an outreach to the garbage dump people. God's anointing was obviously on the effort because after only a short time they had 30-40 people gathering around them for a Bible study in the garbage dump. In less than a year, 800-900 people were gathering every time the missionaries went in to peach and teach, which was three times a week. They soon began to see God's wisdom in this unique ministry. The garbage dump was a totally protected place because no one, including the authorities, wanted to go in there to interfere with what they were doing. One day, their numbers having reached into the hundreds, they were talking with one of the oldest men of the garbage dump city. They told him that somehow they were going to have to find some shelter so that the assembled people would have some cover from the elements. The old man said, "When I was just a child, many years ago, some of the old people at that time said that there was a cave, and far down into the cave there is a meeting place. I remember being taken in there as a young boy. I think I could take you there again." They agreed to come back and go with the old man.

The missionaries soon returned with friends and flashlights. The old man led them to a back part of the garbage dump with a lot of rock formations. He then took them to the opening of a very large cave. They all entered the cave and walked and walked, for about 45 minutes. Finally, at the end, there was a turn, and then to their astonishment they saw an enormous, incredibly well-preserved theater! It was like one of those in the Roman times we have seen in pictures. It was in immaculate condition, obviously preserved from ancient times by the unusual climate. They discovered there was seating for about 5,000 people!

The missionaries began to use that underground theater as the meeting place and as the church. God began to fill the place with garbage dump people. It was not long before every seat in the whole theater was filled, and it was not unusual for lines of Muslims waiting to give testimonies of salvation to go down both sides of the theater, to the left and the right, all the way to the back. These were all Muslims who had come to faith in Jesus Christ, many of them after a supernatural experience, with Jesus appearing to them in dreams and visions, a phenomenon in Muslim countries we have heard about from other reliable sources. Servicessometimes go on for hours.

All this happened because the Father's love through the Holy Spirit stirred in the hearts of two people -- a committed missionary couple -- who said, "yes," and who were willing to lay down their lives, personal ambitions, ego and pride for Jesus, and preach in a filthy, stinking Muslim garbage dump.

I marvel at God's wisdom and how He loves and remembers the lowly.

To Him be all the glory, honor and praise!

Dear friends:

With all the evil and unbelief in the world constantly reported, sometimes even in my own e-mails, let us not forget that God is not asleep and is still quite busy doing what He does (and doing it well).

This afternoon I was watching the Daystar Christian TV channel on Direct TV and heard a riveting interview with a most fascinating Korean pastor, Che Ahn, of the Harvest Rock Church in Pasadena, California.

Pastor Che Ahn was sharing about a great youth revival going on in many churches, with many young people getting filled with the Spirit and manifesting signs and wonders in their witness. He gave some examples. He gave one example of a 22-year-old young man he knows who was recently standing in line at the cash register and noticed the lady in front of him wearing hearing aids. He boldly asked her, "Would you like for me to pray for you so that God will heal your hearing?"

She said yes, assuming that he meant to pray for her later. Instead, he wanted to pray for her right then and there, and she agreed. He did, then asked the lady to remove her hearing aids. She did and with some testing from the young man found out that her hearing was perfect! The lady was so excited. The cashier was in tears, knowing that she had just experienced an act of God.

The young man then asked to use her microphone. He got on the microphone and announced to the whole store, "Attention, shoppers! God is healing on aisle 4. Come on down and get yours." Many came, he preached a short sermon, and many were saved. I suspect many got healed. There was a Holy Ghost revival right there in that store.

The young man's boldness gave me great joy, and I was reminded of the times in my life when I have experienced God's miracle power. It has always been when I stepped out boldly and audaciously in faith, never when I was timid, and when I had to totally trust in God and not myself for the outcome. I had to crucify the flesh and not worry about how I might be embarrassed. Pride and fear of failure often block such actions where God can meet our point of faith and be glorified.

An example is a Christian concert I once attended. The popular, featured singer developed a migraine headache and they were about to cancel her. I suddenly felt a surge of boldness and I made my way backstage, and found her. I came right out and asked if she would like for Jesus to heal her, and without hesitation she said yes. I laid my hand on her head and prayed the prayer of faith. As soon as my prayer was finished, she happily announced that her headache had suddenly disappeared. She was ecstatic! He act went on as scheduled and the large crowd was blessed.

We need more audacious boldness for Jesus. I know He likes it and will meet us when we step out. "Without faith, it is impossible to please Him" (Hebrews 11:6).

Jim
__________________________

Che and Sue Ahn
Senior Pastors
http://www.harvestrockchurch.org

Che and his wife Sue Ahn are the Sr. Pastors of Harvest Rock Church in Pasadena, California. Che and Sue have four adult children, Gabriel, Grace (and son in law Steve), Joy, and Mary.

Che is also founder and president of Harvest International Ministry, a worldwide apostolic network of over 5000 churches in over 34 nations with the common vision of "Changing Lives, Transforming Cities, and Discipling Nations."

Now for the story of a modern miracle, a story which has been verified by several who were personally acquainted with the people involved.

Mrs. Dubay, of Anchorage, Alaska, was a dedicated Christian who lived alone in a small cottage that was heated by a wood-burning cook stove. At the time of this experience, she was sick in bed, so badly crippled that she could scarcely walk. She had depended on friends to bring in a fresh supply of wood for each day, but on this particular morning no friends came to help her. She realized that unless someone brought wood soon the fire would go out and she would freeze to death. The temperature was 30û below zero that February day. She began praying earnestly for help. Finally, as no one appeared, the last of her wood was burned, the fire went out, and the room grew cold. Then she prayed a different prayer - a prayer of complete resignation, telling the Lord if it was His will, she was willing to freeze to death. Just then, the door to her cottage opened and a tall young man walked into the room carrying an armful of wood. He carefully placed the wood in the wood bin and began to remake the fire. He also filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove to heat. Then he went outside and soon returned with another armload of wood. While performing this service he kept his face turned to one side so that Mrs. Dubay could not see him. She wanted to ask him whether he was an angel, but was reluctant to do that. Finally, she asked the question inaudibly, and then the young man turned toward her, smiled and nodded his head. "His face was so noble that I knew he was not from this world," said Mrs. Dubay. "He turned, opened the door and left me without saying a word."

Was this man really an angel? I will let Mrs. Dubay give you her conclusion. She says, "For a time I sat there like one turned to stone. Finally, I thought, If he is an angel sent from God, there will not be any footprints in the snow outside the door. So I forced myself to hobble to the door, opened it and looked out on the unruffled snow in my yard. There were no footprints in the snow. Then I forced myself to lean against the side of the door casing and looked around to my right to see whether the snow had been disturbed where my wood was piled directly underneath my front window. No, the snow had not been disturbed in the slightest bit, over or around my little pile of wood. The snow was perfectly smooth and rounded just as it always is after a snow storm. As I closed the door to my little cabin, I knew that God did love me, and that in my extremity He sent one of His holy angels to my assistance."

Tess Buys a Miracle - True Story

Tess was a precocious eight year old when she heard her Mom and Dad talking about her little brother, Andrew. All she knew was that he was very sick and they were completely out of money. They were moving to an apartment complex next month because Daddy didn't have the money for the doctor's bills and our house. Only a very costly surgery could save him now and it was looking like there was no-one to loan them the money. She heard Daddy say to her tearful Mother with whispered desperation, "Only a miracle can save him now." Tess went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door. She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it! "And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages", he said without waiting for a reply to his question. "Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick... and I want to buy a miracle." "I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist. "His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?" "We don't sell miracles here, little girl. "I'm sorry but I can't help you", the pharmacist said, softening a little. "Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs."

The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does you brother need?" "I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money".

"How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago.

"One dollar and eleven cents", Tess answered barely audibly. "And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.

"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven cents--the exact price of a miracle for little brothers." He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the kind of miracle you need." That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well.

Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. "That surgery", her Mom whispered. "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?" Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost... one dollar and eleven cents ...... plus the faith of a little child.

A miracle is not ALWAYS the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law......

(A TRUE STORY)

A Muslim's Journey to God - Kashif's Story

Dear Mr. Senear,
Here is an account of some of the things God has wrought in my life. By no means exhaustive, it leaps from mountaintop to mountaintop... (to God be all the glory)
When i was 2, i was playing in the dirt in my grandmother's courtyard in Pakistan. It was an open courtyard, built in the style of the Spanish villas. A light appeared above in the the sky. It was brilliant, brighter than the sun. I was unable to move.
I felt then as if a laser beam were penetrating my soul, holding me paralyzed all the while in its irrefutable grip. The feeling was terror. Soul-terror. Like a ragdoll is powerless in the hands of a child, so was i before this mighty God who manifested Himself to me.
When it was made clear i could not exercise control over my body, i relaxed and stopped fighting. As i gave myself over to Him, the agony was replaced by ecstasy. Beyond description.
I remember calling out "Father."

When i was older, an angel visited me in my bedroom, in Calgary, Canada. Though i could not see him, he brought with him the familiarity of a close friend which fit perfectly into my thoughts. "Would you die for somebody?" he asked.
"I don't know," i said, deferring to his obviously greater wisdom.
"What do you think?"
"Yes, it is a good idea to die for somebody," he assured me.
I agreed and was then filled with a sense of peace and joy.
"Would you die for anyone?"
Thoughts of those who had hurt me crowded my head.
"Well, maybe not anybody..."
"Kashif, put yourself in their shoes," he said, showing me how it must feel to be held a grudge against. Rotten.

"Well, if you put it like that, i guess i should be willing to die for anybody, even those who hurt me." As best as i remember, i went through the wall and into heaven. Jesus was to my left, in a white robe, holding my hand. We were walking in a green field. Afterwards, he returned me to my bed and put me to sleep. I forgot this incident until many years later i would invite Him into my heart as Savior and Lord.

As a young adult, i had everything a man could want: family, friends, opportunities, health. But like the prodigal, i took it for granted and abused it. Drugs and loose living led me astray.
A friend began to preach to me at work. Being born into a muslim home, not only did i find the Gospel difficult
to accept, but i argued with and belittled this man for sport.
One day, while in my Toronto apartment, i saw a demon cowering at me from a dark corner. I had been doing drugs and sorcery. Frightened, i fell to my knees, and cried out, "God, if You are there, help me now!"
Now, i had not previously been exposed to the Bible and its teachings in any great detail, but what happenned jolted me to take notice. Immediately the phone rang.
I reached for it, still on my knees. It was my friend from work, the "preacher". Stunned, i asked him what i should do. The unbreachable wall of defensiveness towards the blessed truth was crumbling down... "Read your Bible," was the meek reply.

Though i now began to read the Bible, i was still involved in many new age cults, which colored my approach to God.
In Revelations, the recurrence of the number seven caught me as especially important. We read there of seven churches, seven eyes, seven spirits of God and so on. Normally, what would ensue would be remarkable, but became miraculous when we bear in mind the fact that i was reading the Bible and studying Revelations at the time, noticing the importance of the number seven.
I sat down in October of 1993 to write out a record of my expenditures for the previous month, and this is what i was delighted to see:

Bus Pass	67
Rent	290
Phone	90
Food	120
Drugs	180
Misc.	30
Total	777

What was God trying to tell me?

Miracles became almost commonplace thereafter. And more remarkable. Seeing as all the signs were pointing specifically to a Christian God, i joined a Bible study at the University of Alberta, Canada.
On a weekend retreat in 1994, i was talking with a friend late Saturday night. It was about 3 or 4 in the morning and everyone else had long since fallen asleep. Suddenly there was a soft knocking at the door, seven knocks. If it had been a camper, they should simply have walked in, it was a communal cabin. Who was it then, if not a camper?
My friend braved it and answered the door. Cowering behind, i asked, "Is anyone there?"
"No," she said, looking around the empty landing.
I walked out, and called out, "Who's there?"

Thinking it was a prank, i searched the nearby brush. Nobody. Pausing to reflect on the swings nearby, i felt a deep peace suddenly come over me. I wondered, "What is my friend doing?"

When i returned, i found her framed in the door. Nothing strange, except her face was glowing!
Something like this happened to Moses in Exodus when he saw the Lord for 40 days. Had she seen the Lord? That weekend ended but more miracles ensued quickly. My conviction was growing.

Monday morning God sent me a brother to harvest my soul. We talked and after i told him of all that i had seen, he showed me Bible prophecies which had come true, like Jesus' birthplace, His ancestry and manner of death. I was convinced.
He asked me, "Would you like to accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior, believing that He died on the cross for your sins and rose from the grave?"
I thought to myself, closing my eyes, "After all He's done to prove it's true, i'd be an idiot to say no!"
I mean, seriously, if you know the Gospel is true, you WOULD be an idiot to refuse its power. Eternal life? Free? YOU BET!
I opened my eyes and said, "OK."

Then it happenned.
The Holy Spirit entered my body (at the solar plexus). He was so gentle, so loving, like both parents times a million ministering to their baby. I cried. Exuberantly, with total abandon. Pain i did not know i carried in my bosom was washed out.
I did not care what anyone thought. I was with the highest authority of the universe, God. If anyone judged me they were wrong. God accepted and loved me.
A joy so profound i cannot describe filled my soul and i leaped to my feet and whooped. That is the only word i can think of: whoop. That is the sound that came out.

In 1996, in the morning of a winter's day, an East Indian angel appeared at the foot of my bed. He was dressed in a white robe, from his neck to his feet. He said, "Who am I?"
Knowing of nothing but his appearance, I said, "You look like a member of the Pakistani community."
He disappeared.
In Acts, Paul sees a man from Macedonia telling him to preach the Gospel there. A similar vision. A call?

A few months later, a found myself out of my body. It was morning.
Floating around the apartment, i knew this was a supernatural experience. At the foot of the stairs, i saw to my right a sheet of lightning (like the snow on your tv set), blinding in glory.
Though i was out of the body, a small light from inside of me flew towards and into this greater light, like a piece of steel to a magnet. A very big magnet.
Then as i floated up the stairs, i heard my father's voice call my name, "Kashif".
I was shown a clock set at 11:15 and a radio. Maybe to tell me to listen to the radio that day at 11:15 AM to hear the Gospel radio show. So i did.
The show was about Esther. I had previously memorized a verse about Esther's calling:
Esther 4:14: "If you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise from elsewhere for the Jews, but you and your father's family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to the kingdom for such a time as this?"
Mordecai, serving as Esther's conscience, prods her to witness to the king in order to spare her people from genocide. Was God telling me He was willing to use me and that is why He created me? If i didn't respond, was i not then in danger of being left behind?
After these things i quit my job and went into full-time preaching.
Please pray that God remain central in my life and that i both know Him and make Him known, as He is wonderful!

In the Middle East, a deacon in a large church had a vivid dream. Before him he saw a familiar street of his large city, and a house address (which for this post I'll refer to as "269"). The following night he had the same dream. Again and again he saw the address --269. When he awoke this strong believer felt he should investigate, believing his dream could be from the Lord.

The deacon went to the street, found the address, knocked on the door. A man with a white robe, beard and turban answered. He was a religious leader/teacher. The leader invited the deacon in and shut the door. He found himself in a room filled with more white robes and turbans, all sitting in a circle...and women, covered head-to-foot in their burkas.

To say the deacon was nervous would be an understatement. For to talk about Christ in their presence (whom they knew as the Prophet Isa) could cost him his life. His only option was to accept the robed man's offer of tea, sit down and chat. Anxious to leave, he set his cup, thanked him and walked to the door. On his way out the leader interrupted, "But, why did you come?"

Hesitantly, the deacon replied, "I had a dream. I saw your street and your house number. So I came, believing God was sending me here." The leader replied, "We have been waiting for you! We have all become followers of Isa and have been praying to God that He would send someone to tell us more about Him. He has sent you to us. We gather here secretly because we cannot talk about our faith outside this room. It is too dangerous."

On leaving, the robed leader passed on this urgent request: "Please, you must come again. There are many more groups like us in the neighborhood, meeting secretly in houses. You must also tell them more about Isa."

Reference: "Jesus Film Project" August 28, 2008 Newsletter.

Elizabeth

     Three year. old Elizabeth finished her prayers and crawled into bed as I tucked her smooth sheets and blanket snugly around her. "Can we play in the snow tomorrow, Mommy?" she asked, watching the fat, white flakes fly by the window. "We'll see," I said. I looked out the window too. The tall trees surrounding our house were being buffeted by the storm, their branches sagging under the weight of the snow.
     I kissed her good night and closed the door. The wind whistled, and as I went downstairs I could hear the pines and oaks creak and groan.
     Ever since we bought the house I'd been anxious about the trees. That afternoon our neighbor had lost an ancient pine. I worried the storm would knock more down.
     Before my husband left to watch a basketball game at a friends house, I asked him to say a prayer with me about the trees. "God keep us safe tonight."
     In the family room I started picking up dolls and toys and just then I heard a loud crash above me. The whole house trembled. Even the floorboards beneath my feet shook. I dropped the toys and ran upstairs.
     Dear God, don't let it be one of the trees. Elizabeth! that towering pine outside her window!
     What if under the weight of the heavy snow.... Heart Hammering, I flung her door wide open. A blast of cold air hit me. The window near her bed was gone. The upper part of the pine tree had knocked it out, leaving behind branches and snow.
     I felt glass crunch beneath my slippered feet. Oh my God, Elizabeth must be scared to death. I turned on the lights and rushed to her bedside to lift her from danger. But to my amazement she was still sleeping peacefully. There wasn't any glass on her coverlet or pajamas.
     Then i saw them surrounding her. Layer upon layer of wings forming a feathery canopy above her sleeping form. Luminescent angels bowed their heads, spreading their wings over her, shielding Elizabeth from harm. She was nestled in the center of this celestial cocoon, warm and safe.
     As I stood there, the shimmering glow suddenly vanished. I scooped Elizabeth into my arms, hearing her mumble sleepily, and rushed her out of the damaged, cold room.
     The next morning Elizabeth and I ventured back to her bedroom. Holding her hand, I gingerly stepped over the threshold. My husband was tacking a tarp over the broken window. His eyes filling with tears, he said, "Honey, look."
     Together we walked over to the bed. Thousands of pieces of broken glass lay on the floor, sparkling in the morning sun. Needle-sharp shards were scattered on all 4 sides of her bed. My husband ran his hands over the blankets, sheets and pillows. Not a single splinter of glass was on Elizabeth's bed.
     "Last night when I came into your room," I said to Elizabeth, "I saw layer upon layer of wings wrapped around you, protecting you and ........"
"Oh Mommy," she interrupted, "I know about the angels. One of them patted me on the head before it left!"

Every Prayer sends an Angel to help.

Send some Angels!