in the morning

there will be a day when all of us will stand before Him and be completely free from all the sorrows and failures of earth. together, we will thank Him forever. for now, we have His Spirit to help us, and every now and then, we loose those things that bind us, and we get a foretaste of that freedom. for now, we can pray for each other and just like dancing, our steps can find the rhythm of His grace.

this morning, i pray for you each to be released from the rigid structures of only what your eyes can see, and i pray for your silent virtues to awaken. i pray for your knees, and for your hands, and i pray for you to stop running away and trying to prove Him wrong. he has enough time for each one of us. i pray for those whose isolation has bred complacent dispair, and for you who seethe in anger because of seeming unanswered prayer. let what i write not sing to your heavy heart.

before the sun came up i talked with the Lord, and as i share some of it, i continue to pray for each of you to grasp onto this hope that we have in Him:

“do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” matthew 6.

prayer: i guess i thought that if i followed you, that i would meet everyone’s expectations.

not true.

following you takes away all other praise. when you are the King, all else bows its knee. and you are. you’ve never not been.

breathing out a sigh of relief, stored up bitterness and fear flees from me, and i can see with invisible eyes. there is a clear pool of water all around me, cool and calm, a small waterfall nearby, gently bringing more and more of your love.

it doesn’t matter what artificial light i use to expose the darkness i feel inside. you are the only one who forgives sin, and the only eternal hope. your light does not obey me, so i think i’ll do this thing your way.

take me, my Jesus, through that door of light, into the unaware, spent kind of life you want for me. help me see your truth, and stop living for everyone else.

i pray for my friends, as they pass along your security to a new generation, may you fill them with the warm assurance of your presence. may you take them into the land, and guide the balance of their lives. Father in heaven, gently lead my friends, help them out of the theater-in-the-round, that place in their minds where they perform, and help them to climb onto your Rock. help us all to rest today. take those who get mired in others’ voices, and place them at your feet, alone. make the ones who weep to laugh again, and restore your song to the troubadours. You, our Hope, our Light, our Life, deserve our worship. You, our God, deserve our praise. Be praised. Be loved. Be adored. Let the words of our lives sing new songs to you, as you change us, as you love us.

“now as for me, i said in my prosperity, ‘i will never be moved.’ oh Lord, by your favor you have made my mountain to stand strong; you hid your face, i was dismayed… ‘hear, o Lord, and be gracious to me; o Lord, be my helper.’ you have turned my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness, that my soul may sing praise to you and not be silent.”
“weeping may last for the night, but a shout of joy comes in the morning.” psalm 30.