It was 1996, I was entering my senior year in high school, Doc Martins and flannel shirts were all the rage, we were dancing the Macarena, and it was all coming back, coming back to Celine now.
And Pastor Mark Haney received a vision from God.
It was a vision with biblical backing coming from Matthew 9: 36-38 where Jesus' heart breaks and he has compassion on the crowds of people who are "so confused and aimless that they were like sheep with no shepherd," and he declares to his disciples, "What a huge harvest! What few workers! On your knees and pray for harvest hands!" (paraphrasing mine; direct quotes from The Message).
Pastor Mark received a vision, accepted his calling, and obeyed God's will to plant a New Testament Church in Leedey, Oklahoma that was "healthy in worship, ministry, evangelism, and discipleship" (taken from hfchurch.com). He started out small in the year 2000 with a few people meeting in his garage, but within the year, they had grown and were in need of a larger meeting place. They purchased a downtown storefront but quickly outgrew it as well, and it wasn't long before they were building a new church on the outskirts of town, and just after Christmas in 2008, they held the first service of what was christened Harvest Fellowship Church at it's new and current location.
It was at this simple yet lovely church that our family found ourselves worshiping this past Sunday morning, but to be completely honest, I wasn't thrilled to be going there. I know this sounds strange because I've been looking forward and planning to attend "that new church in Leedey" since our journey began, and we'd even headed that way a couple of times, only to have something come up that placed us at different churches altogether. However, this particular Sunday was hard because we'd been at my childhood church at Lenora the night before for their annual supper and auction and stayed the night at my parents' afterwards. Once again it seems like I'm making no sense because staying with them made Leedey, Ok a much easier drive on a Sunday morning, but I found my decision wavering as I considered that my entire family was going to be at Lenora for church, AND they were having a guest speaker who I've been anxious to hear as well. I very nearly called off the Steeple Chase and simply went where I wanted to go, but an easy (irritating, annoying) reminder from my husband redirected my thoughts to God's plan rather than my own, and we made the pilgrimage to Harvest Fellowship instead.
We arrived a little before church started at 10:30 and parked in front of the metel framed, steepled structure and hurried to get inside out of the cold November wind. The door was opened for us and we were given a bulliten as we entered into a cozy foyer with a small but inviting beverage cart in the corner. The girls and I made our way to the restroom where we met the first of a number of friendly members who helped set us more at ease. I had a good chat about the nice lotions in the restroom and left feeling a little more at home than when I first walked in the door. My husband waiting alone in the foyer, on the other hand, was beginning to get antsy think I'd gotten lost.
The sanctuary we entered was spacious and pretty and modern in concept. With chairs instead of pews, a large open stage area with praise band tuning up, and strategically placed tithe and offering baskets instead of an official offering time during the service, it was a lot like many of the other newer, nondenominational fellowships we've attended. Our girls were quickly spotted (they're a little hard to hide) and were greeted enthusiastically and invited to attend Children's Church later in the service by a beautiful lady who it turns out my husband had known "most of his life." In fact, she is married to Jason's high school baseball coach who was at the moment on stage warming up on his guitar. He and his lovely wife are in charge of the youth at Harvest Fellowship as well as being involved in a number of other ministries. Mark Ward has even written a number of books, and was kind enough to send those home with Jason and share his enthusiasm and passion for ministry with both of us after the service.
The worship began with incredible music from the praise band. The band calls themselves Unshakable, and if you ever get the chance to worship with them I highly recommend it. They led us in songs like "The Voice of Truth", "I am Yours", and "Child of God". All songs with fantastic meaning that truly touched us and helped to open that door between our souls and our savior.
During the music, rather than having a traditional passing of the offering plate or formal communion, the pastor and his wife, along with a number of other prayer leaders stationed around the room, offered a time of prayer for members of the congregation. Men and women, young and old, made their way into the loving arms of fellow believers and shared a very powerful time of prayer. It was different and touching and real and made me feel as if this congregation was truly a family that cared about and trusted one another and had absolute faith in the power of praying to a loving and powerful God.
The prayer and praise time was followed by a time with the children, and I was surprised at how many kids were present. We counted somewhere around 30 that were willing to go up front. They were shown a video about Operation Christmas Child. My girls were very touched by the video and have mentioned several times since that we need to get our boxes done. (And now I'm realizing that I forgot to stop by and get any picked up, and I think I've waited too long. We do boxes every year. I'm feeling like a total failure right now! Boo!)
After children's time, the kids rushed off to Children's Church, and Pastor Haney got started with an incredible message. He started off with a bit of a public service announcement letting us know that this particular message wasn't going to be a feel-good message, but a very necessary "meat and potatoes" kind of sermon. Taken primarily from Chapter 3 of the book of Revelation, Pastor Haney reminded us that we as American Christians really have no idea what true persecution is all about. He proclaimed that we are in the midst of a holy war being disguised as a political war and that we better start preparing ourselves for living in a world where we are truly persecuted. He pointed us to the early church and the teachings on persecution and the martyrdom of Stephen. (It was at this point that my husband leaned over and whispered, "We heard a sermon on this just the other day." To which I replied, "Uhm, yeah Babe, that was me." Insert laughing 'til you cry emoji here.) We were urged to quit caving into our "me, me" tendencies and give ourselves wholly to following Christ. We were reminded that to make a difference in the world we have to be different from the world.
I particularly loved the story he shared of a man named Polycarp who was a prisoner and convert of John's on the island of Patmos who later became Bishop of the church at Smyrna. As an old man, Polycarp was arrested by soldiers of Marcus Aurelius and dragged into the arena of the Roman Coliseum. He was told to denounce Jesus Christ and rather than do so, he not only refused saying that Jesus had never in 86 years done him wrong and he would not blaspheme his Savior and King, he went on to place himself in the pile of wood to be burned, and thanked God for judging him worthy of being martyred and allowing him to share the cup of Christ. Amazing!! It certainly made me wonder if my faith is strong enough and made me long for the kind of relationship with my King that would give me the strength to die so courageously for my faith in Him.
When the service was over, the congregation joined together to move in tables and chairs and prepare for a Harvest Feast of their own. We were invited to join, but had planned on joining family in Vici for Sunday Dinner, so we declined the meal, but stayed for a while afterwards while Jason caught up with his old (as in "in the past", not age) coach, and we shared how God has been moving in our lives and learned of all the He is doing in this fantastic little church on the edge of Bison Country.
As we drove away, the little girls excitedly shared what they learned in their classes, our oldest belted out praise songs from the morning's worship, and everyone wished that we lived closer so we could come more often. I stated how glad I was that we had made the journey, and
Jason slyly grinned, "I guess it wasn't just me giving you a hard time this morning after all." And he was right. God has truly blessed us in our Steeple Chase this year, and this Sunday at Harvest Fellowship, I learned just how blessed we can be when we listen and obey.
No comments:
Post a Comment