Truth City, part two

I love Mexico. I love it's vibrant colors, the way the city streets smell of fresh warm tortillas at each corner taco stand, the history in art and architecture. The strong sense of honoring family and friends.

There is a heartbeat there that beats louder day by day. It is the heartbeat of a Savior in love with His people. There is a contagious love and joy Mexicans have that echoes the safety of the Father's arms. Maybe it's their constant warm embrace. When I said goodbye to the prayer team, I think I kissed and hugged each one no less than five times. A lovefest for sure. I made new friends I will have for an eternity. They would speak to me in Spanish, I would answer in English. We would smile, and laugh, having no clue really what we were saying to each other if no one was around to translate. But there is an everlasting language in His Spirit, yeah?

I was listening to Francis Chan today on his podcast as he talked about his time in Mexico City. He saw some of the same sights my mom and I did...one of them being a tribal dance in the square that involves a cleansing through smoke.

On the plane ride over, God gave me a picture in my mind of kindling. It brought to mind the scripture from Isaiah 50:11. Look, all you who kindle a fire, Who encircle yourselves with sparks: Walk in the light of your fire and in the sparks you have kindled— This you shall have from My hand: You shall lie down in torment.

He kept adding to the picture, showing me a fire like you would see in the middle of an Indian tribe as they worshipped their gods. The smoke was like a fog that lulled the senses, and I had an awareness of the drugged feeling they would have from whatever they were smoking. Then the presence of Jesus came in, like a consuming fire, and His rain put out the fire, cleared away the smoke.

This picture really gave me a way to begin to pray for Mexico City specifically. For the ancient strongholds in the city to be cleansed. To see a dance like I envisioned on the plane in the zocalo later was sobering for sure. This is not just a demonstration for tourists. They are believing in what they are doing. The cathedrals like the one pictured here from the main zocalo are built from the materials of the Aztec temples. The stronghold of this building is literally built from the strongholds of Aztec worship.

Friday evening in the prayer room. Our prayer team was made up of mostly beloved students, with a few older women from Puebla. They came with their prayer leaders, longtime American missionaries, from the house of prayer at Amistad Cristiana, a huge church in Puebla. They brought a guitar, a jambe, keyboards. This was not going to be any quiet, somber time of prayer! Their joy in the Lord was so evident. His love and favor of them was even more evident.

They came to pray His thoughts for their generation. And as the weekend progressed, their prayers became more earnest, more burdened. They took turns going into the stadium to be a part of what the larger group was doing. Some returned to spend more time in the prayer room, relentless in their intercession for their peers. It always brought me to tears. How precious they are to the Father.

Often in a group of intercessors, you have to give direction and pray as much for them as for whatever you are interceding for. This group moved in His Spirit in such a way that only comes from spending lots of time in intercession, in cultivating the discipline of drawing in closer to hear His voice. As prayers were prayed in Spanish, they were also sung in Spanish. As God gave us the words to pray, we would repeat them in song, over and over. It was a natural flow of worship and prayer as the Spirit led.

Kevin, one of the American leaders of the house of prayer, had a vision Friday afternoon of angels over the sportsdome. Thousands of golden lights forming a canopy over this place we claimed as holy ground. Every once in a while, a black spot appeared but was hugely outnumbered. That made us all smile and rejoice. He also shared how God impressed on his thoughts that just as the students in 1968 were slaughtered, the Lamb of God was led to the slaughter, and was doing a redemptive work in our midst by His grace.

I loved praying with these intercessors, in getting to know their hearts for the Lord. As with all my times with Passion, the prayer room is always my favorite place to be. To know His thoughts, His hopes, His dreams. 18,000 students were expected last weekend - about 7,000 actually came. I believe with all confidence the Lord gathered each one and deposited them there for the message He had for them. More later...

A Message from GOD-of-the-Angel-Armies:

"Do the problems of returning and rebuilding by just a few survivors seem too much? But is anything too much for me? Not if I have my say." Zechariah 8:7-8 (the Message)