As we loaded up the minivan this weekend to head to the beach,
I’m not sure any of us could have imagined what the Lord had planned for the
COTA Women’s Retreat. Sure, we may get to stare out at the ocean from our hotel
room on a dreary February day. Yes, we would hopefully meet some new women from
Apostles. We would probably enjoy our speaker, Kathy. And we had heard there
might be a pretty fun dance party one night.
But the Lord had abundantly more for us. We didn't
just stare out at the beach, we walked in the sand on a sunny, 75° February day. We did not just meet new
women, we heard real stories, we bonded over shared life experiences, we forged
new friendships. Kathy did not just speak good words; she dug deep in scripture
and in her own heart and shared the powerful, raw story of redemption—in her
life and ours. And oh, we would definitely forego a restful night of sleep to
dance all night with a whole bunch of women.
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| Raleigh Fellows at the 2017 Women's Retreat |
And our God worked. The Spirit moved. Jesus redeemed. There are
stories of healing—from deep down in our toes to deep down in our souls. There
are stories of experiencing God through new gifts. There are stories of Jesus
showing up, even in the midst of pain.
My story (in a very abbreviated version) is when Jesus
took my place at the table. In a very powerful moment of prayer, I was asked to
go back to a moment in my life where I felt pain and rejection. I went back to
that moment, and struggled to find Jesus there at first. But, after some
conversation and questions, I was able to confess some unforgiveness, admit my
deep need for Jesus, and then it happened. I went back to that painful memory,
and I looked for Jesus. And there I saw him. He was sitting at the table, in my
place. The hurtful words and insults still came, but Jesus took them all. As I
sat cowering behind the chair I was previously sitting in, I no longer heard
the insults because they went through Jesus first. I watched him take my pain
and my hurt. I watched him pick up my burdens. Yes, Jesus took my place.
The chains began to loosen, I finally tasted the ice cream, and it was
delicious. I felt free.
So, thank you, Apostles women, for choosing to love. When
a confused, hurting 23-year-old girl admitted that confusion and hurt, you did
not run. You prayed. You asked questions. You spoke truth from the Lord into
the deepest places in my soul. You pleaded with Jesus on my behalf. You did not
even know my name, but yet you called me sister, you called me daughter,
you called me friend. Thank you.
Carryl Tinsley
2016-17 Raleigh Fellow
2016-17 Raleigh Fellow
