Others like shaking the heavens Features >>
About the Book
"Shaking The Heavens" by Ana Mendez is a spiritual guide that explores the power of prayer and fasting in breaking through spiritual barriers and bringing about radical transformation in individuals and nations. Mendez shares personal experiences and biblical principles to encourage readers to engage in spiritual warfare and reach new levels of intimacy with God. The book emphasizes the importance of perseverance, faith, and obedience in shaking the heavens and seeing God's kingdom manifest on earth.
Helen Roseveare
“If Christ be God and died for me, then no sacrifice can be too great for me to make for him.” That was her mission’s motto. In 1953, Helen sailed for the Congo with hopes of serve Christ as a medical missionary with WEC (Worldwide Evangelization Crusade). For so many years she’d dreamed of being a missionary. As a young girl, she’d hear stories of her aunt and uncle’s experiences on the mission field, and now she was eager to have her own stories to tell.
In 1925, Helen Roseveare was born in England. Because education was a high priority for her father, Helen was sent to a prestigious all girls school when she was 12. After that, she went to Cambridge. It was during her time in college that she became a Christian, truly understanding the gospel for the first time. She left her Anglo-Catholic background and became an evangelical. Her focus was to finish her medical degree and prepare herself for the mission field.
After she became a doctor, Helen sailed to minister in the Congo. She was highly intelligent and efficient, but her role as a woman created struggles with her fellow missionaries and nationals. In that time period, single missionaries were seen as second-class citizens of the mission station. In the Congo, the medical needs were overwhelming. She couldn’t just stand by and watch all the suffering around her. She was determined to make a difference. She dreamed of establishing a training center where nurses would be taught the Bible and basic medicine and then sent back to their villages to handle routine cases, teach preventive medicine, and serve as lay evangelists. She didn’t have approval from her colleagues, who believed that medical training for nationals was not a valid use of time, evangelism and discipleship were more important.
Despite the conflict with them, after only two years after arriving in the Congo, she had build a combination hospital/ training center in Ibambi, and her first four students had passed their government medical exams. Her colleagues weren’t as excited about her progress as she was. They felt that she was wasting time, so they decided that she would better serve the Congo by relocating in Nebobongo, living in an old leprosy camp that had become overgrown by the jungle. Helen argued that she must stay and continue the nursing training in Ibambi, but they insisted that she move. It was a major setback, but she went. Starting from scratch again, she built another hospital there and continued training African nurses. Still, she was strong-willed and seemed to be a threat to many of her male colleagues. In 1957, they decided to relocate John Harris, a young British doctor, and his wife to Nebobongo to make him Helen’s superior. Dr. Harris even took charge of leading the Bible class that she’d taught. She was devastated. She’d been her own boss for too long, and although she tried to let go of control, she just couldn’t. Everything that had been hers was now his. This resulted in tension between them, of course. Her independence was her greatest strength, but also a definite weakness. She did not know how to submit to imperfect leadership. In 1958, after over a year of struggling with who was in control in Nebobongo, Helen left for England for a furlough. She was disillusioned with missionary work and felt like she might not ever go back to the Congo.
Back in England, she really struggled with why she had all these issues between herself and the male leaders in the Congo. She began to convince herself that her problem was her singleness. What she needed was a doctor-husband to work with her and be on her side during the power struggles! She didn’t think that was too much to ask. So, she asked God for a husband, and told Him that she wouldn’t go back as a missionary until she was married. She met a young doctor and decided he would be the one. (She wasn’t very patient in waiting on the Lord’s timing.) She bought new clothes, permed her hair, and resigned from the mission, all to try and win his love. He did care for her, but not enough to marry her. Helen was heartbroken, mostly because she’d wasted so much time and money trying to force her plan into reality - without God.
Still single, Helen returned to the mission and left for Congo in 1960. It was a tense time for that country. They had been seeking independence for a long time, so a huge civil war was on the verge of beginning. Many missionaries left because the risk was so high. Helen had no plans of going home. She believed that God had truly called her back to Congo and that He would protect her if she stayed. She was joined by a few other single women, who made it difficult for the men, they didn’t want to look like sissies. She was given charge of the medical base in Nebobongo because John Harris and his wife left on furlough. She had so many opportunities to minister in the midst of the turmoil. She was sure that God had her right where He wanted her to be. She continued to learn to see God in the details of her life, to trust him more fully. She had been coming closer to total trust in God all of her life, between bouts of depression, sometimes feeling that she was not really a Christian because she was capable of spells of anger and bitterness and other sins. “I was unable to reach the standard I myself had set, let alone God’s. Try as I would, I met only frustration in this longing to achieve, to be worthy.” She came to recognize that hatred of sin is a gift of the Holy Spirit.
Rebels were gaining strength, and there were reports of missionaries being attacked. Helen endured a burglary and an attempted poisoning, but always in her mind the situation was improving. She felt that she had to stay, because there was so much need and so many people depending on her. On August 15, the rebels took control of Nebobongo, and Helen was in captivity for the next 5 months. On the night of October 29, Helen was overpowered by rebel soldiers in her little bungalow. She tried to escape, but they found her and dragged her to her feet, struck her over the head and shoulders, flung her to the ground, kicked her, struck her over and over again. She was pushed back into her house and raped brutally without mercy. Helen suffered more sexual brutality before her release. God used this in her life to minister to other single women missionaries who feared that they’d lost their purity due to a rape and thus their salvation. Helen knew that her relationship with God had not been damaged. She had not failed God in any way because of the rapes. Finally, on December 31, 1964 she was rescued. Helen had a sense of joy and relief, but also a sense of deep sorrow as she heard of many of her friends’ martyrdom.
Helen returned to Africa for the third time in March of 1966. She served for 7 more years, but it was full of turmoil and disappointment. The Congo had changed since the war. There was a new spirit of independence and nationalism. They no longer respected the doctor who’d sacrificed so much for them. Helen left Africa in 1973 with a broken spirit. Her 20 years of service in Africa ended in defeat and discouragement.
When she got home, she went through a very, very lonely period in her life. She turned to God. He was all she had. Instead of bitterness there was a new spirit of humility and a new appreciation for what Jesus had done for her on the cross. God was molding her for her next ministry. She became an internationally acclaimed spokes-woman for Christian missions. Her candid honesty was refreshing in a profession known as one of super sainthood. Helen mobilized people by showing them that God used imperfect people with real struggles to be his ambassadors to the unreached world.
By Rebecca HIckman
SOURCES
Roseveare, Helen: Give Me This Mountain (1966)
Roseveare, Helen: He Gave Us a Valley (1976)
Tucker, Ruth A.: From Jerusalem to Irian Jaya
When I (Still) Don’t Desire God
It’s been fifteen years since I wrote When I Don’t Desire God: How to Fight for Joy . I wrote it because hundreds of people who hear the message of Christian Hedonism with hope drift into discouragement because they don’t have the joy in God that they know they should. Christian Hedonism says that God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him . Which makes matters worse if that satisfaction is missing. That’s why I wrote the book. I have been asked, What would I say now, with the accumulated wisdom of 72 years, to those still  struggling to “delight yourself in the Lord” (Psalm 37:4)? This is not theoretical for me. Not only do I share the struggle, but I have conversations with real people struggling like this. I followed up one such conversation recently with an email. I’m going to share that with you below. But first a caution. Wisdom for the Darkness Whether we can help someone struggling with joylessness in the Christian life depends not primarily on the quantity of wisdom we have accumulated over the years, but on how we apply the truth we have, and whether the Spirit of God turns that truth into life and freedom and joy. “When the darkness of uncertainty and fear hangs over you, don’t let go of the One you knew in the light.” I am not minimizing the value of accumulated wisdom. The Old Testament sage commands, “ Get  wisdom” (Proverbs 4:7). Jesus “ increased  in wisdom” (Luke 2:52). Paul prays that we would be “ filled  with spiritual wisdom” (Colossians 1:9). We know that in Christ “are hidden all the treasures of wisdom” (Colossians 2:3). Paul calls us to admonish each other “in all wisdom” (Colossians 3:16). James tells us that if we “lack wisdom,” we should ask for it from God (James 1:5). For there is a “wisdom that comes down from above” (James 3:17). We can never get too much wisdom. But my point is that if you are 30 instead of 70, you should not be intimidated or paralyzed by the fact that you still have 40 years of wisdom accumulation in front of you. As you read your Bible tomorrow morning, praying for supernatural insight, God may grant you a glimpse of some precious truth that later in the day will be exactly the truth that your struggling friend needs. Am I Beyond Hope? After the conversation that I had recently with my friend, he followed up with an email. He was still in distress. What do you say when you feel you have said all you know to say — in the book and in conversation? One answer is this: Don’t think that you need the  tailor-made answer to the presenting problem. Instead, realize that any  precious biblical truth that has ministered deeply to you, though it may seem irrelevant to your friend’s situation, may be more helpful than you realize. Just go ahead and overflow from your morning devotions. They will know the truth (which may seem random to us), and the truth may set them free. You also can give the sober counsel that struggling has hope of success, but forsaking the struggle does not. I think it is a mistake to give unqualified assurance to a struggler when you do not know if they are born again. You hope they are. They hope they are. But you are not God. And they are in a season of darkness. What you do know beyond doubt is: if they finally abandon Christ and hope, there is no hope. “Struggling has hope of success, but forsaking the struggle does not.” So I thought it might be helpful to share with you how I responded to my friend’s email. Keep in mind that his struggle has to do with patterns of repeated sin which make him feel hopeless about ever getting victory. These failures leave him feeling distant from God and, at times, wondering if he is a Christian, or perhaps whether he may even be an Esau who has spurned grace so often that true repentance is no longer possible (Hebrews 12:16–17). This is a terrifying position to be in. I don’t think my friend is unusual. I think thousands of Christians, if they will pause to be painfully honest, will admit to the same struggles. It is hard to admit this, because it is so scary. Parts of the following letter are exact quotes. Other parts are altered enough so as not to betray any confidences. Letter to a Distressed Friend Dear brother, I totally empathize with the frustration and fears of possibly being an Esau because of sinning so deeply against God’s mercy and light and patience. There is no comfortable answer to how one conquers such fears and escapes such a condition. From my own experience, what I would say is this: If you have the grace to hold on to God’s mercy and not throw it away in apostasy, there is hope. This is not a comfortable answer. It doesn’t speak in terms of simple certainties — namely, that you will definitely prove not to be an Esau. But it is the only way forward into light and hope and relief. I can’t promise that you are  a child of God, but I can  promise that if you throw away hope, you will prove not  to be a child of God. God’s word speaks often about “waiting” for the Lord, as in Psalm 40: I waited patiently for the Lord;      he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction,      out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock,      making my steps secure. (Psalm 40:1–2) How long was David in the miry bog? It doesn’t say. But what is clear from all the psalms is that the psalmists never forsake God when they feel like he has forsaken them. Something holds them. “I can’t promise that you’re a child of God, but I can promise that if you abandon hope, you will prove not to be.” Not only does the Bible speak of waiting for God in the miry bog, but it also speaks of true believers walking in a kind of darkness. Perhaps you have considered this word from Isaiah: Who among you fears the Lord      and obeys the voice of his servant? Let him who walks in darkness      and has no light trust in the name of the Lord      and rely on his God. Behold, all you who kindle a fire,      who equip yourselves with burning torches! Walk by the light of your fire,      and by the torches that you have kindled! This you have from my hand:      you shall lie down in torment. (Isaiah 50:10–11) We may not be able to describe adequately what it means both  to walk in darkness and  to trust the Lord. They seem contradictory. And yet there it is. I’m suggesting that it would mean this: When the darkness of uncertainty and fear hangs over you, inasmuch as by grace it remains in you, don’t let go of the One you knew in the light . Keep holding on, if only, it may seem, by your fingernails. Know this: his hands are on his children’s fingernails — day and night. Pray for dawn and deliverance. From where I stand at age 72, I believe I can encourage you that it will come. Paul speaks in a way that captures some of the mystery of the ongoing battle with sin: Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin. (Romans 7:24–25) Paul is ashamed of his inconsistency in these times of defeat. But he does not despair. He looks away from himself, confesses his divided self, and presses on in the battle. But he also tells us that the way he fights as an imperfect saint is by the hope that Christ has a firmer grip on him than he does on Christ. He may feel like only his fingernails grip the cliff. But he believes that Christ grips his fingernails: Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own . (Philippians 3:12) Or, to paraphrase, “I grasp for the hope for future perfection, because Christ has already grasped me and will not let me go.” Sometimes we feel his grasp more sweetly than at other times. It is a fearful thing when we are going through a season where we don’t feel it at all. I’m not going to give you a list of ways to fight for your joy. Those are all in the book that you already read. What I am doing in this letter is simply reminding you (1) that God is present in the darkness, (2) that he is holding on to his people when they feel barely able to hold on to him, and (3) that though you may feel unsure of your salvation in this struggle, you may be totally  sure you will not have salvation if you give up the struggle and walk away. “If you have the grace to hold on to God’s mercy and not throw it away in apostasy or suicide, there is hope.” May I recommend a song about God’s precious keeping power? In the last several years, the song “He Will Hold Me Fast” has gone deep with me and become very sweet. I love the robust congregational affirmation of this recording of Capitol Hill Baptist Church singing it. I could never keep my hold Through life’s fearful path. For my love is often cold, He must hold me fast. May God give you the grace to sing it anew.