In Australia most churches don’t do anything special for New Year. I remember in my early Christian years we used to have “Watch Night” services to see in the new year with worship and prayer, but Christians have become lazier and those have largely disappeared (although a few churches are now starting to revive the custom.)
Here it is very different. “Crossover” services are a big thing – bigger even than Christmas day, which as I explained in a previous post, is pretty low-key. Here in Kakamega the service was scheduled to run from 8.30pm on 31st December to 12.30am on 1st January.
The idea is to take time thanking God for the year that has been, and for the way He has kept us through it. I had not problem with that – 2023 was one of the most awesome years of my life. God made some amazing connections for me; I was ordained as an apostle and prophet (even though I had functioned and been recognised as a prophet for over 30 years, and as an apostle for over 20);
I moved out of my house and into the caravan; I had a great trip to Queensland to visit my family and do some ministry; we had a totally awesome conference; and of course I started on this great adventure. So, yes, I was very much up for praising and thanking the Lord for the year past.
To be honest, though, the actual service did nothing for me. In typical African style, there was lots of noise and shouting. (I wish I could convince my dear African brothers and sisters that God’s not deaf, and neither is the devil.) Of course, it was all in Swahili, so I didn’t understand 99.9% of it. Plus, I was tired and in pain.
Just before midnight John called me up to announce the crossover, then it was my turn to preach. My preaching on this occasion was totally pathetic! I couldn’t pull my thoughts together, I was distracted by my pain, and my voice kept cracking up on me. I was a disappointment to myself, and must have been to John and the congregation as well. Not a great way to start what I am believing to be an amazing year.
The pain was due to a worsening of the problems with my leg that I mentioned in my last post. I initially thought that maybe it was spider bites, but now that does not seem to be the case. It was stinging/itching/burning and really making me feel extremely uncomfortable. My tummy was also feeling upset, probably as a result of the high dose of antibiotics. And when we arrived back from the Crossover service I noticed that the first blister had sprouted two daughters, one on either side.
So I spent much of the remainder of the night in spiritual warfare, as I believe this is part of the attack against Christianity in this area, and against this church in particular.
On Monday it appeared that all the prayer and the meds were kicking in, and it looked like the leg was beginning to improve. But by the evening things had gone downhill again, and I had developed half a dozen new blisters, this time all around my heel. John and Veronica wanted to take me to the hospital on Tuesday morning, but as I prayed about it on Monday night I felt the Lord was saying no, this is a spiritual attack and needs to be addressed in the spirit (though He didn’t say to stop taking the antibiotics.)
So, I’ve got my armour on, and my sword in my hand, and I’m calling the troops to rally around.