•                            上山祷告与主更亲6/24/17  黎娜

自从去年夏天第一次参加上山祷告至今已是第三次了。很久以前就听说过这个韩国祷告山,有的人会来这儿通宵祷告。我一直都很想来到这里。来基督六家以后,得知每年的上山祷告就是在这个韩国祷告山,没来以前就已经非常兴奋了。
第一次到这里,科才弟兄发给我们祷告单张。之后我们个别去找个安静的地方祷告。我于是向林中走去,带着耳机听着赞美的音乐。我可以尽情地赞美神,在他所创造的美好自然里面;呼吸着清新的空气来赞美他!周围是这样的安宁,只有我与他一同坐席,心里向他诉说着对他的渴慕。何等美好的时光。不知不觉中个人祷告的时间很快就结束了,我们开始了第二部分的集体聚会。还记得牧师分享的题目是“请差遣我”,之后Sharon 带领我们唱”Hi-Ne-Ni 我在这里”。我当时热泪盈眶。我对主的回应是:"我在这里,请差遣我"

记得第二次上山祷告,我和另外一个姐妹单独一起祷告,祷告完后我们准备去主堂集合,参加集体祷告。一路上,我眼所能见到的地方,有不同族群的人,用不同的语言,敬拜,赞美,祷告。有的弹着吉他,有的唱着赞美的歌曲,他们有用韩语的,有用西班牙语的,有用英文的,有用方言的大声地祷告。我想此情此景想必就是天上敬拜的一个缩影吧!

这一次上山祷告和头两次不太一样,头两次是参加祷告,带着期盼,享受与神亲近的美好。这一次作为组织者心里有很大的压力。知道这一次上祷告山是去服事的。因要做些儿会前准备,几乎没有个人与神沟通的时间。可是一到了祷告山,灵里就兴奋起来了。我先和几个姊妹一起祷告,其中一位刚刚信主,还没有受洗。我们一祷告,她就感动得泪流满面,心里的重担和压力一下子就得到了释放。在祷告聚会中有一段安排的祷告是求神帮助我们渴慕他,愿意花时间更多地祷告,读经,赞美他,并洁净我们。我当时祷告了几句之后,突然灵里有很深的哭泣,这是一个渴望,渴望被神洁净。几分钟之后,我一下子就被圣灵大大地充满。赞美主!他是这样地喜悦我们来亲近他。虽然在忙碌中,他在那一刻,使我的灵得饱足。与他交通的那一刻胜过千言万语。

  •                       在山上祷告的心情  杨淑芬  6/24/17

遠遠的離開家,來到這個環境優雅的禱告山,離開做不完的家務,我決心不看手機、不找人交談,只單單的來朝見神,與神面對面,來到這裡的目的就是要禱告神。

面對至高、公義、慈愛、聖潔的神,我心肅然起敬,我不由自主的唱起「我的神,我要敬拜祢」,我心無限感恩,數不盡神的恩典,心有滿足的喜樂,並看到自己許多的虧欠,虧欠神的、虧欠人的,求神開恩憐憫赦免我許多的軟弱與虧欠。禱告中我為未信主的父母家人感到無力、心疼,求神施恩不要放棄、快快拯救他們。又看到小組裡許多要牧養的羊的需要,也感到軟弱無力,我向神呼求,求祂用祂的智慧、能力、恩典扶持我。這時神對保羅說的:「我的恩典夠你用的,因為我的能力是在人的軟弱上顯得完全。」給我力量,頓時我心裡的力量剛強起來。我說:神啊!祢的慈愛高及諸天,祢的信實上達穹蒼!願祢愛充滿我,叫我能愛祢所愛、惡祢所惡,活出祢的見證。

 

  •   见证                                      朱伟

        記得年輕的時候,有一次去爬山,為了看日出,那天起了個大早,披了件棉衣安靜的坐在山頭等待日出,心中充滿了盼望,當太陽冉冉升起的那一刻,更是欣喜若狂。那一天的快樂,至今記憶尤存。到了六家,我驚喜的發現,原來在離教會驅車一個小時的地方,有一座美麗的山,叫禱告山。在這裡,我甚至經歷了與主相遇,聽祂的聲音和對祂說話,那種美妙遠遠勝於頭一次在山上看日出所帶來的欣喜。

         我們每天面對生活、工作各樣的挑戰,有時心裡真的是裝滿世界的事情,無法抽身。這個時候能夠到山上安静之地,擺脫繁雜喧闹,專心在神的身上,把所有的煩惱向祂傾訴,然後感覺輕鬆得力,實在美好。在祂創造的大自然中呼吸着一草一木的芬芳,身心都得供應和滿足。

         到禱告山禱告,已經成為我的習慣和需要。感謝主,因着許多次上山禱告的美好經歷,讓我更加認識上帝,靈命也更加成熟。即便是平時身處繁雜之時,我也會常常提醒自己安靜下來,讓那雙有做不完事的雙手合十,到主的面前禱告。禱告已經成為我隨時的需要。 

  • 《話說上山禱告》王曉筠姐妹

       眾所周知黎牧師特別注重禱告,他自己不但是我們禱告的榜樣,也常常教導和操練我們的禱告。上山禱告是六家四結合禱告(週一禱告熱線,週三晚禱告會,週五至週六24小時大使命守望禱告,上山禱告)之一,也成為六家的一大特色。過去一直堅持着每年3月、9月的兩次上山禱告,曾經也和基督之家各家聯合上山禱告,近年還增至每月一次上山禱告。

         話說13年前2004年2月28日我和先生剛來到基督六家20天,就榮幸的第一次參加了全教會的上山禱告,那日的經歷非凡,因為是第一次,至今歷歷在目,終生難忘!後來就是每年持續的上山,不斷的經歷“上耶和華的山,見耶和華的面”的甘甜佳美的腳踪!

      今年6月24日全教會上山禱告的日子,是同工禱告、籌備和盼望已久的日子,在黎娜姐妹精心安排帶領推動下,國、粵、英三個部門參與的弟兄姐妹超過我們所求所想和預計的50人的目標。“我的心啊,你要稱頌耶和華。” 

  • 每次上山禱告都是我享受“良人屬我,我屬良人”,“不見一人,只見耶穌”的美好佳境。因為有1-2個小時的個人禱告時間,可放下世俗一切的纏累和掛慮,這是操練與神親密美好關係的安靜時刻:個人省察、認罪悔改、更經歷神的大愛、神的同在,真是讓我無以言表的感動!“主啊,讓我更愛你!更殷勤火熱的服事你!做討你喜歡、蒙你悅納的兒女!”
  • 每次上山禱告是讓我更擴大眼界,擴張地界的向神呼求!為世界、國家、教會、家庭、不信的可憐失喪的靈魂。。。。大聲的呼求!拿着看着手中各個禱告事項,想着心裡記掛着的需要代禱的人和事,聽着耳旁此起彼伏的阿門、哈里路亞的讚美感謝禱告聲。。。。。。我的心被聖靈感動、澆灌、充滿,熱淚盈眶!“主啊,願你潔淨你的教會、你的兒女,大大復興我們!讓我們成為這個時代的光和鹽,成為你的榮耀!”
  • 公禱時段,全教會國、粵、英語共聚一堂,更體現基督的身體彼此聯合、彼此相愛、彼此代禱。“看哪,弟兄和睦同居是何等的善,何等的美。”

黎牧師敬拜讚美的主題信息更加讓我們清楚明白了它的真意!“主啊,唯有你是配得敬拜讚美的,讓我們用心靈和誠實敬拜你。”

  • 上山禱告的經歷是自己的激勵,要與人分享,積極推動宣傳,使更多人參與享受,同得好處。

這次看到的果效:超出目標50人,超出我們所求所想。如方舟小組過去多年2-3人參加,6/2414人參加(大人、孩子)

 

詩篇664主啊“全地要敬拜你,歌頌你,要歌頌你的名。”

                                   

  • 对山上祷告的教导          程季鸣

尊敬的黎牧师:平安!敬拜赞美的 ppt已收到,认真的看了二遍,收获颇丰,小文说清了大道理,简洁明了实用,易学易懂易用,将视为宝贵并充实我们的教学,不愧为我们灵命塑造的导师,感谢感恩!

                                         

  • 上山祷告的感想                             沈丽薰

          大概是两年多前吧!参加过一次“上山祷告”。山上的空气很新鲜,气温凉爽,也听到了别的语言此起彼落的祷告声。我想起了提前2:1-2 所讲的:我勸你第一要為萬人懇求禱告代求祝謝為君王和一切在位的也該如此使我們可以敬虔端正平安無事的度日

          祷告也是我们亲近神的时刻。在个人祷告的时间里,是比平常要专注,因为来到山上,就是为了祷告,也远离尘嚣,心里容易平静。但是一个多小时在室外,坐立难安,腰腿有些疲累。公祷的时刻,与众弟兄姐妹一起唱诗赞美神,同心祷告,容易有圣灵的感动,这是很好的经历。

         能够参加上山祷告,总是好的,也愿意配合教会的活动。但是,因为来回的路程需要两个小时,上山的路也弯弯曲曲,回来时,特别觉得累。要休息很久,才能恢复体力。所以,因为个人身体的状况,对于“上山祷告”不是特别向往。

  • 上山祷告的感想  紀明新  7/10/17 

       我于2013年第一次參加全教會上山禱告,也是我親身經歷神與我同在的那種美妙的感受,在與神同在時身上充滿力量,感受良人屬我,我屬良人的親身經歷。在每次上山禱告結束時,都能體會心意更新後的喜樂。

      我們教會牧師是一個非常注重禱告的牧師,而且每月一次上山禱告更是禱告生活的高潮。在山上向神傾說自己的軟弱、煩惱、及勞苦重擔都交給神。馬太福音11:28凡勞苦擔重擔的人可以到我這裡來,我就使你們得安息。神的話是多麼的寶貴,上山之前的軟弱、煩惱、及勞苦重擔通過神的話就釋放出來。我喜歡唱一首歌,名叫“一無掛慮”,歌詞是這樣說的:應當一無掛慮,應當一無掛慮,你們應當一無掛慮,只要凡事藉著禱告祈求和感謝,將你們所要的告訴神。我相信這首詩歌是神在山上賜給我的,叫我經歷祂所賜的平安!

        我們在山上為社區禱告,更為教會禱告,讓教會成為社區的灯台,福音的管道,為自己靈命成長及成為神可用的器皿禱告!在每次禱告中都經歷神與自己同在,也感受神的呼召,而在每次呼召後打開聖經都與經文吻合。

 …

 

  •    Prayer Mountain Experience                Paul Lai 7/3/17

 

College was an exciting time for my spiritual growth, as exposure to other Christians with different experiences, spiritual gifts, and church backgrounds enriched and deepened my own faith. But towards the end of my college years, the same openness that helped me to see other Christians’ blessings also helped me to see, with new eyes, the riches of my own church heritage. Even though I’d only attended my Chinese immigrant church in my teenage years, and though I tended to appreciate it as one does when one’s faith is a young adult’s choice rather than an inherited habit, I still approached the Mandarin-speaking congregation members with a little hesitation, even suspicion. Maybe it’s because when I was an unknown teenage boy running around their church with their teenaged daughters, I was greeted with a little suspicion.

 

Returning to my home church, though, in the summers of an eventful college career, I found a different relationship to the adults in the Mandarin-speaking congregation. This change was both represented and in no small part facilitated by Nhu Tran. In my head, I’d memorized his name as “Neutron,” though he may have even made a joke about himself along those lines. I remember meeting him when I was a teenger, he a jovial older man (perhaps in his forties at the time) with a wide smile and ready handshake. He had neither the dignified, austere bearing of the distant church elders or the parental protectiveness of your fellowship friend’s uncle, but instead, the quick warmth and loud laugh, the unpolished demeanor and unvarnished enthusiasm of a beautiful fool for Christ, as one imagines of St Francis or maybe Zaccheus. He had a gospel-tinged joy that was irrepressible, and he did not discriminate to whom he expressed that fervor or affection. He worked at the church, often holding umbrellas or folding bulletins, sometimes singing choir or teaching a devotional, and often seemed himself a fixture of the building, more comfortable than the pews, more constant than the pulpit.

 

One day, I visited mid-week on some errand, and Nhu Tran and I struck up a conversation. I found myself sharing unpretentiously about the things God was doing in my life. Nhu Tran had a way of opening you up like that. Even more unpretentiously, he began sharing about a place he went to pray. It was a getaway, not far, a twenty-five minute drive into the Santa Cruz mountains, appropriately named The Prayer and Fasting Mountain of the World, a mountainous retreat center festooned with zealous Korean prayer warriors and dotted with small private prayer huts, where one could go away and seek the Almighty in happy solitude for as long as one wanted. And would I like to go with him some time? In retrospect, it occurs to me how strange a 20 year-old I was, that few invitations would’ve appealed to me more than going to a mountain retreat for solitary prayer with a 50 year old Chinese man. But indeed, it sounded like just what my soul hungered for, and we arranged to go.

 

The trip, when it came, surprised me with the same unpretentious joy as Nhu Tran did. We hopped in my sporty sedan, drove through windy hills while Nhu Tran told me story after story of his troubled past before Christ and his remarkable life after, and as we neared the tree-covered hills where retreat centers neighbored each other, he watched the roads and pointed out the turns like a soldier returning after the long way home. The Prayer and Fasting Mountain was a small and quick turnoff marked by a simple, carved wooden sign, the kind you easily miss if you’re not looking for it. In English and Korean, it announced itself, the words so much grander but the markers so much humbler than the campy all-service retreat centers in proximity. Up the narrow road to a gate that Nhu Tran knew to get out of the car and open, we drove into a low ebb between two hills that nestled the middle of what must have looked like a miniature version of a retreat resort– a near amphitheater, gardened rows, circles of trees, and cabins dotted throughout. But though the territory was large enough, the appearance of “miniature” came from the size of cabins, A-framed like the simple living quarters of a camp but no longer than one person could comfortably fit in. Like a closet.

 

Nhu Tran showed me to the office where we signed in (literally, signed our names on a sheet of paper and, wordlessly greeting a Korean woman behind a window, made ourselves at home). We walked along a path, passing one cabin with shoes outside that indicated someone occupied it, but soon finding two, three, more that were empty. Nhu Tran pointed with his hand, holding a tattered Chinese Bible, at one or two cabins I might like to pick, or anywhere as he swept his arm across the landscape of spots open at this odd mid-day hour for a churchmouse and a hungry college student to seek God in.

 

I don’t remember which one cabin he took, but I remember mine. A sliding door, a small window, a simple carpet, and a sign that read, “Please clean up after yourself” and “Bless you” or something like that. I had left my shoes outside and knelt with Bible and journal in hand. We’d agreed on an hour before meeting outside again. The small room’s air was fresh, faintly scented of the redwoods outside, where birds made the only noise that would cut into the silence.

 

I think the usual direction of this narrative is that I would struggle for many minutes to find the concentration to pray, and only after wrestling flesh and demons for a seeming eternity, I would finally still my soul enough to hear him. That was indeed the pattern of many future visits to the Prayer Mountain. But this first time, I believe God had mercy on a spiritual simpleton prone to wander, and gave me a really fulfilling time. I don’t remember what I prayed about. It was probably big plans for ministry, and definitely that girl I liked. There were songs, and journal entries, and awkward silences between baring my soul and staring at my toes. There was also an unmistakable Presence, God’s Spirit arriving in ways just as I needed in that hungry youthfulness.

 

Nhu Tran and I reconvened, both visibly exuberant, he rejuvenated and I slightly wizened. We drove back, chatty and grateful. I think we may have even sang in the car together. He’d shared a sacred place with me, and I’d been there with him.

 

For the next few years, that sacred place with no function or motive than prayer became a sacred place for me. I went when seeking my direction, in ministry or calling. I went one late night, agonizing about that same girl I liked who was now my girlfriend (and is now my wife). I started going to the mountain once every couple months, until the Korean woman in the office would recognize me, until I’d gotten to know the different shapes and sizes of the many cabins that stretched up the mountain, and the shapes and sizes of different prayers God would bring me through– my modest versions of laments like Jeremiah, praises like David, longings like Paul, silences like Elijah.

 

By the end of my college years, I had returned to my home church only to be sent by them and God to a new church plant, where Pastor John Lai (no relation) led the three congregations– Mandarin, Cantonese, and English– and I was invited to help grow the English group. John Lai was a visionary of prayer, and one day I mentioned to him briefly this story of Nhu Tran (John knew him well) and The Prayer and Fasting Mountain of the World. If Nhu Tran had brought a hungry urchin to an endless fine banquet, my telling Pastor Lai about the Prayer Mountain was like bringing a fine gourmand and world’s most enthusiastic host to the freest buffet.

 

We drove there together, and with reverence and humility, Pastor Lai greeted the place’s special design with the same embrace that I had with Nhu Tran. But while he prayed there, I think God gave Pastor Lai a deeper impression and greater burden than I ever imagined in my tiny vision and self-centeredness. God gave Pastor Lai a vision of generations coming to pray and seek God, filled with the passion to pray that would overpopulate every cabin at the center and every heart in each room. 

                     

  •    Feedback on going to the prayer mountain   Brian Hui 7/10/17

Going up to the Prayer Mountain was a challenge that wasn’t without its reward.

 

Like most people, prayer–especially extended prayer, was and remains a challenge. How can I possibly pray for hours? What will I say? I’m sure I’ll get bored. I’ll get sleepy. I’ll lose interest.

 

Plus, there’s the added inconvenience of driving out to the Prayer Mountain on a Saturday morning, a day that I’d prefer to sleep in.

 

I went up to the Prayer Mountain several times. And while it is a physical mountain, it is also a spiritual and psychological mountain. To get there, you must drive an hour south, traversing through the Santa Cruz mountains. When you finally arrive on the property, you must carefully maneuver uphill around dangerous curves on a one lane road.

 

But when you arrive, while you are surrounded by beautiful trees, you are also surrounded by silence. The prayer “houses” available aren’t comfortable appointed, they’re spare by design. And then there is the long internal journey of praying.

 

During my first several trips up the Prayer Mountain, I made it up the physical mountain, but not the spiritual mountain. I gave in to sleep. I was worried about unfinished work. Honestly, I didn’t want to be there so I allowed myself to mentally do other things.

 

But on one of the trips, I finally decided to be fully present. And that gave me to power to ascend the spiritual mountain. Silence became less lonely and more serene. Praying for one person, led to praying for another, and then another. Praying for myself became bearing my soul and doing business with God. It was still labor, mind you. But at the top of that spiritual mountain was a view—a view of God, others, and myself.

 

Now, could I have experienced this somewhere else, somewhere more conveniently located? Sure. And I now do. But there is also something about prayer that is a journey, a series of tests, like scaling a mountain, away from cell reception, fully removed, after which you’re rewarded with a gratifying and joyful view.

 

As I said, these days, I engage in more prayer and extended prayer away from the mountain. I can’t say that this is solely because of my experiences up on the Prayer Mountain, but it certain played a part.

  • Sidney Yen, 07/04/2017

Praying on the mountain

 

In the Bible, Jesus showed inspirational examples of praying and talking to God the Father, on the mountain.  As the Lord’s disciple in the modern age, I followed His example and frequently went to a fasting prayer mountain in Scott Valley, CA to have a quiet time with the Lord Jesus and the Heavenly Father.  It was peaceful, and inspirational, and I felt very near to God, and just like Psalm 3:4, “I was crying to the Lord with my voice, And He answered me from His holy mountain.” To me I feel that I am intimately talking to Him and listening to His voice in person.

It was once on the prayer mountain 4 years ago, I received a clear calling from the Lord for serving Him in full time after I anxiously prayed for His confirmation of His calling to me.  And I was then determined to quit my secular job and get equipped with the schooling of a seminary.