Sunday, July 17, 2011

Once Again.


Alone in a full room and a partially full row.

Alone in a room purposed for corporate worship.

Not alone in my Spirit.

Captivated by what my closed eyes could see.

Taken by the One.

Praying. Not for who I am or what I want, but for who He is and what He has given.

Praying for the promises that He has whispered to come. Quickly, please :)

Praying groans of the Spirit.

Groaning not for me.

Groans for You.

For who You are.

And You speak.

You tell me that Your greatest work came through Your greatest suffering.

And You call me to be like you.

And You see the tears that welled up from my deep.

They washed over the windows of my soul, to leave transparency behind.

Praying over the lives of my people, of Yours, I hear You again.

"Tear your clothes and put on sackcloth. Come to me with your tears, your empty stomach, yourself.

I want to restore what the years of the locusts have destroyed.

You are my chosen vessel.

There is power in your tears, authority in your prayers, holy in your hunger.

There is wholeness in your torn."

I know this is true, because I know the truth: Jesus.

My purpose is this: to be used for Your people. It is what this heart was made for.

If I have yet to taste what He has in store for His people, then I can be sure that I have yet to taste the suffering that will come with it.

May Your works of greatness manifest through much suffering.

For I am sure that joy and gladness come with the presence of the Lord, and in that I need not be afraid.

Would You wreck the souls in this city?

May they never. be. the. same.

Would You breathe life, rushing water, into this land?

Fill us once again.


Photo recap:

{Stuart and Brit. Service and Strength with courage in the middle. So excited to see what He's doing with our lives. This hunger will not be misplaced.}

{Wednesday nights. J running across busy streets. Pacing in parking lots -- lost in communion with the holy One. Beautiful braids not only bind us at the ankle. Our lives have been weaved with the larger strand. With Himself. Nights on trunks, covered in goosebumps. Calling them what they are: Godbumps. I am thankful for you.}

{Karis and Kasey and weddings. And sharing awkward moments. And showing platysmas. And laughing more than what my side stitches can take.}

{Women that I love. And their love that gives me cavities... it is so stinkin sweet}

{The lovely Lisa and her water that runs deep -- stems from the fulfilling One. To memories and coffee and the stranger that offered us spoons of whipped cream out of his mocha.}

{Aunt Hollie Haboob and the giggles we shared when she got to see her first Haboob! Wishing that she'd bring her humor and compassion to this desert. What a welcomed gift that would be.}
{Cleaning squad. Sweat coming from our foreheads, elbows deep in loving others. I can't think of a greater way to spend a Tuesday morning.}

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