If there lurks in the most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered to us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at sea. We are far too easily pleased. - CS Lewis
Ephesians 3:14-21
16I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being,
17so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love,
18may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
20Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us,
21to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.
2.23.2008
The Message
It's 4 in the morning. and my friend and I can't put down the The Message Bible.
Do yourself a favor and get alone and read Isaiah 43 in the Message version.
Don't have the Message version, go to www.biblegateway.com.
Do yourself a favor and get alone and read Isaiah 43 in the Message version.
Don't have the Message version, go to www.biblegateway.com.
2.20.2008
On seeing the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning
One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street in Tokyo's fashionable Harujuku neighborhood, I walked past the 100% perfect girl.
Tell you the truth, she's not that good-looking. She doesn't stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn't young, either - must be near thirty, not even close to a "girl," properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She's the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there's a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.
Maybe you have your own particular favorite type of girl - one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you're drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I'll catch myself staring at the girl at the next table to mine because I like the shape of her nose.
But no one can insist that his 100% perfect girl correspond to some preconceived type. Much as I like noses, I can't recall the shape of hers - or even if she had one. All I can remember for sure is that she was no great beauty. It's weird.
"Yesterday on the street I passed the 100% girl," I tell someone.
"Yeah?" he says. "Good-looking?"
"Not really."
"Your favorite type, then?"
"I don't know. I can't seem to remember anything about her - the shape of her eyes or the size of her breasts."
"Strange."
"Yeah. Strange."
"So anyhow," he says, already bored, "what did you do? Talk to her? Follow her?"
"Nah. Just passed her on the street."
She's walking east to west, and I west to east. It's a really nice April morning.
Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and - what I'd really like to do - explain to her the complexities of fate that have led to our passing each other on a side street in Harajuku on a beautiful April morning in 1981. This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock build when peace filled the world.
After talking, we'd have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woody Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for cocktails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed.
Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart.
Now the distance between us has narrowed to fifteen yards.
How can I approach her? What should I say?
"Good morning, miss. Do you think you could spare half an hour for a little conversation?"
Ridiculous. I'd sound like an insurance salesman.
"Pardon me, but would you happen to know if there is an all-night cleaners in the neighborhood?"
No, this is just as ridiculous. I'm not carrying any laundry, for one thing. Who's going to buy a line like that?
Maybe the simple truth would do. "Good morning. You are the 100% perfect girl for me."
No, she wouldn't believe it. Or even if she did, she might not want to talk to me. Sorry, she could say, I might be the 100% perfect girl for you, but you're not the 100% boy for me. It could happen. And if I found myself in that situation, I'd probably go to pieces. I'd never recover from the shock. I'm thirty-two, and that's what growing older is all about.
We pass in front of a flower shop. A small, warm air mass touches my skin. The asphalt is damp, and I catch the scent of roses. I can't bring myself to speak to her. She wears a white sweater, and in her right hand she holds a crisp white envelope lacking only a stamp. So: She's written somebody a letter, maybe spent the whole night writing, to judge from the sleepy look in her eyes. The envelope could contain every secret she's ever had.
I take a few more strides and turn: She's lost in the crowd.
Now, of course, I know exactly what I should have said to her. It would have been a long speech, though, far too long for me to have delivered it properly. The ideas I come up with are never very practical.
Oh, well. It would have started "Once upon a time" and ended "A sad story, don't you think?"
Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was eighteen and the girl sixteen. He was not unusually handsome, and she was not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened.
One day the two came upon each other on the corner of a street.
"This is amazing," he said. "I've been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you're the 100% perfect girl for me."
"And you," she said to him, "are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I'd pictured you in every detail. It's like a dream."
They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle, a cosmic miracle.
As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one's dreams to come true so easily?
And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, "Let's test ourselves - just once. If we really are each other's 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we'll marry then and there. What do you think?"
"Yes," she said, "that is exactly what we should do."
And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west.
The test they had agreed upon, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should never have undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other's 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully.
One winter, both the boy and the girl came down with the season's terrible inluenza, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. When they awoke, their heads were as empty as the young D. H. Lawrence's piggy bank.
They were two bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society. Heaven be praised, they became truly upstanding citizens who knew how to transfer from one subway line to another, who were fully capable of sending a special-delivery letter at the post office. Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 75% or even 85% love.
Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was thirty-two, the girl thirty.
One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:
She is the 100% perfect girl for me.
He is the 100% perfect boy for me.
But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.
A sad story, don't you think?
Yes, that's it, that is what I should have said to her.
short stories by: Haruki Murakami
Tell you the truth, she's not that good-looking. She doesn't stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn't young, either - must be near thirty, not even close to a "girl," properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She's the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there's a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.
Maybe you have your own particular favorite type of girl - one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you're drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I'll catch myself staring at the girl at the next table to mine because I like the shape of her nose.
But no one can insist that his 100% perfect girl correspond to some preconceived type. Much as I like noses, I can't recall the shape of hers - or even if she had one. All I can remember for sure is that she was no great beauty. It's weird.
"Yesterday on the street I passed the 100% girl," I tell someone.
"Yeah?" he says. "Good-looking?"
"Not really."
"Your favorite type, then?"
"I don't know. I can't seem to remember anything about her - the shape of her eyes or the size of her breasts."
"Strange."
"Yeah. Strange."
"So anyhow," he says, already bored, "what did you do? Talk to her? Follow her?"
"Nah. Just passed her on the street."
She's walking east to west, and I west to east. It's a really nice April morning.
Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and - what I'd really like to do - explain to her the complexities of fate that have led to our passing each other on a side street in Harajuku on a beautiful April morning in 1981. This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock build when peace filled the world.
After talking, we'd have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woody Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for cocktails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed.
Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart.
Now the distance between us has narrowed to fifteen yards.
How can I approach her? What should I say?
"Good morning, miss. Do you think you could spare half an hour for a little conversation?"
Ridiculous. I'd sound like an insurance salesman.
"Pardon me, but would you happen to know if there is an all-night cleaners in the neighborhood?"
No, this is just as ridiculous. I'm not carrying any laundry, for one thing. Who's going to buy a line like that?
Maybe the simple truth would do. "Good morning. You are the 100% perfect girl for me."
No, she wouldn't believe it. Or even if she did, she might not want to talk to me. Sorry, she could say, I might be the 100% perfect girl for you, but you're not the 100% boy for me. It could happen. And if I found myself in that situation, I'd probably go to pieces. I'd never recover from the shock. I'm thirty-two, and that's what growing older is all about.
We pass in front of a flower shop. A small, warm air mass touches my skin. The asphalt is damp, and I catch the scent of roses. I can't bring myself to speak to her. She wears a white sweater, and in her right hand she holds a crisp white envelope lacking only a stamp. So: She's written somebody a letter, maybe spent the whole night writing, to judge from the sleepy look in her eyes. The envelope could contain every secret she's ever had.
I take a few more strides and turn: She's lost in the crowd.
Now, of course, I know exactly what I should have said to her. It would have been a long speech, though, far too long for me to have delivered it properly. The ideas I come up with are never very practical.
Oh, well. It would have started "Once upon a time" and ended "A sad story, don't you think?"
Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was eighteen and the girl sixteen. He was not unusually handsome, and she was not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened.
One day the two came upon each other on the corner of a street.
"This is amazing," he said. "I've been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you're the 100% perfect girl for me."
"And you," she said to him, "are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I'd pictured you in every detail. It's like a dream."
They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle, a cosmic miracle.
As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one's dreams to come true so easily?
And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, "Let's test ourselves - just once. If we really are each other's 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we'll marry then and there. What do you think?"
"Yes," she said, "that is exactly what we should do."
And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west.
The test they had agreed upon, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should never have undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other's 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully.
One winter, both the boy and the girl came down with the season's terrible inluenza, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. When they awoke, their heads were as empty as the young D. H. Lawrence's piggy bank.
They were two bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society. Heaven be praised, they became truly upstanding citizens who knew how to transfer from one subway line to another, who were fully capable of sending a special-delivery letter at the post office. Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 75% or even 85% love.
Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was thirty-two, the girl thirty.
One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:
She is the 100% perfect girl for me.
He is the 100% perfect boy for me.
But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.
A sad story, don't you think?
Yes, that's it, that is what I should have said to her.
short stories by: Haruki Murakami
The Naming of Cats
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
and inscrutable singular Name.
this poem is one illustrating the deep search that each of us must make seeking out the name inscribed on our hearts. this is the journey that i am on, knowing that there is an attractive peculiarity in me [somewhere somewhere] . and so i spend my nights in silence contemplating whether or not "my name" will offend the world. but God whispers to me that "my name" will bring light to the world, and its my vocation seek out the name on my heart, for in my name is my assignment, and its a peculiar one, one that will eventually shed light to the world. enter with me on this journey, to sit in silence seeking the One who wrote our name on our hearts. and its a name that only he knows. eternity will reveal our name to us, and finally we will see who we really are, and the beauty of peculiarity in us. and we will see that for the majority of our lifetime, we went by a common name, doing common things, far from the calling...but keep in mind this thing, that peter once told me thing:"i found my name in His name". So seek Him, and you will eventually be revealed. and thats what creation eagerly groans for: for your revelation.
[Selah]
With you on this journey of heartache, love, patience, and discovery...
-noel
2.18.2008
The Pearl of Pursuit and [ ]
"How happy we would be if we could find the treasure about which the Gospel speaks! Everything else would seem as nothing to us. Since that treasure is infinite, the more we dig deeply into it, the more we find it's riches. So let us keep unceasingly searching for it, and let us not become weary until we have found it." - Brother Lawrence
what is it that moved the apostles to "leave all and follow"?
what is it that moved paul to forsake the pleasures of this world and to "die daily"?
"what is it that moved them to be so zealous?"
What did mary see to "waste her perfume at His feet"?
what do the angels see that moves them to cry out "holy" all the days of their lives?'
"desire": I learned that with desire comes pursuit. if there is no pursuit, there is no desire. i have also learned that pursuit also cultivates desire. we guys can relate this principle to the pursuit of a girl . "it was the pursuit that got me in the gym "- [brother in-law] . "it was the pursuit that moved me to get a job"- Me... it was the pursuit that moved me to do things that i would've never done if there had been no pursuit. [dizzy?]
"the proof of desire is pursuit, and the temperature of your desire is exemplified by the energy of your pursuit". - Tommy Diego/ Unknown.
what is it that moved the apostles to "leave all and follow"?
what is it that moved paul to forsake the pleasures of this world and to "die daily"?
"what is it that moved them to be so zealous?"
What did mary see to "waste her perfume at His feet"?
what do the angels see that moves them to cry out "holy" all the days of their lives?'
whatever it is, i want to see it. I want something to grab my heart to the point where i too will "leave all and follow". i long to be captivated over something that moves me to lay my life down. i want to live for something that would cause me to "step out of the boat". For at times, i find myself living for nothing. i wake up with little drive.
is there something out there worth laying my life down for?
"desire": I learned that with desire comes pursuit. if there is no pursuit, there is no desire. i have also learned that pursuit also cultivates desire. we guys can relate this principle to the pursuit of a girl . "it was the pursuit that got me in the gym "- [brother in-law] . "it was the pursuit that moved me to get a job"- Me... it was the pursuit that moved me to do things that i would've never done if there had been no pursuit. [dizzy?]
"the proof of desire is pursuit, and the temperature of your desire is exemplified by the energy of your pursuit". - Tommy Diego/ Unknown.
One word
"One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters."
George Herbert
We've got a gazillion people trying to teach us new things, show us new skills, give us better advice... etc. but nothing compares to when God whispers His desires to our hearts. You know how you can have lots of people tell you the same thing but when a certain someone says something, it just clicks? Thats what the Word of God does. It pierces through bone and marrow.... it pierces through everything fleshly and everything that seperates us from God. It pierces through all of that to reach our hearts and change our lives. One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters... one rhema [revealed word] is better than a million logos.
George Herbert
We've got a gazillion people trying to teach us new things, show us new skills, give us better advice... etc. but nothing compares to when God whispers His desires to our hearts. You know how you can have lots of people tell you the same thing but when a certain someone says something, it just clicks? Thats what the Word of God does. It pierces through bone and marrow.... it pierces through everything fleshly and everything that seperates us from God. It pierces through all of that to reach our hearts and change our lives. One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters... one rhema [revealed word] is better than a million logos.
2.14.2008
A Nice Read...
Television
The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!
'We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?
'Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rate and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.
Roald Dahl
I'm not going to be throwing away my t.v anytime soon, but this is cool. Definitely a good thing for a single valentine to do tonight.
2.11.2008
Hidden Treasures
1 Chronicles 29:3
Moreover, because I have set my affection on the house of my God,
I have given to the house of my God, over and above all that I have
prepared for the holy house, my own special treasure of gold and silver.
I think one of the easiest things for us Christians to fall into is condemnation… thinking that the moment we do something wrong God is mad, and its going to take a whole lot of sacrificing, praying, reading, church events, etc to get Him back to loving us. I know I have felt at times… what is so special about me? God’s got a million other people who probably pray better, love him better, etc. and I’m just one of the rest… but im not. We are not.
If you see the verse I put above, I was reading it last night and I thought about how this is David building the temple … and he wasn’t just bringing a pile of wood and a bag full of stones. His affection was on the House of God… so he brought his own special treasure. What no one else was able to offer, because it belonged to David, is what he offered. That’s exactly how it is in our lives. When our affection is on the heart of God…when we are madly in love with Him, what we have to offer God is our own special treasure. It’s something no one can offer Him but only me. Only you. It’s my own special words that I whisper to Him that no one else feels but me because it’s my moment with God. It’s your own special song that you sing with lyrics no one else has because it comes from YOUR heart. It’s moments that no one else can give to God but you because it’s YOUR time. We each have our own special treasure… will you give it to Him? He wants it.
Moreover, because I have set my affection on the house of my God,
I have given to the house of my God, over and above all that I have
prepared for the holy house, my own special treasure of gold and silver.
I think one of the easiest things for us Christians to fall into is condemnation… thinking that the moment we do something wrong God is mad, and its going to take a whole lot of sacrificing, praying, reading, church events, etc to get Him back to loving us. I know I have felt at times… what is so special about me? God’s got a million other people who probably pray better, love him better, etc. and I’m just one of the rest… but im not. We are not.
If you see the verse I put above, I was reading it last night and I thought about how this is David building the temple … and he wasn’t just bringing a pile of wood and a bag full of stones. His affection was on the House of God… so he brought his own special treasure. What no one else was able to offer, because it belonged to David, is what he offered. That’s exactly how it is in our lives. When our affection is on the heart of God…when we are madly in love with Him, what we have to offer God is our own special treasure. It’s something no one can offer Him but only me. Only you. It’s my own special words that I whisper to Him that no one else feels but me because it’s my moment with God. It’s your own special song that you sing with lyrics no one else has because it comes from YOUR heart. It’s moments that no one else can give to God but you because it’s YOUR time. We each have our own special treasure… will you give it to Him? He wants it.
2.10.2008
tear our hearts
Joel 2:12/13
12 That is why the Lord says,
“Turn to me now, while there is time.
Give me your hearts.
Come with fasting, weeping, and mourning.
13 Don’t tear your clothing in your grief,
but tear your hearts instead.”
Return to the Lord your God,
for he is merciful and compassionate,
slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love.
He is eager to relent and not punish."
But tear your hearts instead…
For about 2 years God has been wanting me to grow deeper in intercession… and for 2 years I’ve kept him waiting. Whether it was because I was lazy or whatever reason… I know I wasted a lot of time. Last weekend I went to The Call, where it was 12 straight hours of prayer, fasting and intercession. As “cliché” as it may sound, I know my life was changed… and I know something was imparted into me that ignited a fire for intercession and prayer like never before. The very first thing we did before we entered into intercession was to repent. It wasn’t some “lets all silently ask for forgiveness for those things we know we have fallen short from...” Lou Engle [the leader of The Call] said “how can we expect to change a nation if we cant even change ourselves”… if we are still struggling with the same sin, still dealing with the same bad habits.. etc. ; so imagine thousands of people crying in repentance to God… asking God for clean hands and a pure heart, confessing their sins to one another and tearing their hearts before Him. After that, it was intercession for everyone and everything… and I know now more than ever that it moves the heart of God every time he sees His children stand in the gap for His prodigal sons and daughters. The Bible says to let the priests who minister before the Lord [that’s us… now that we are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood..] weep between the porch and the altar interceding for their land so that no one can ever say “where is their God??” [joel 2:17]. I realized that the fervent, effective prayers of the righteous do indeed avail much [james 5:16] and that God is waiting for us to stop complaining and start praying. For us to get back to the ministry of reconciliation… declaring and praying for reconciliation of things that have been broken and torn in peoples lives…to be able to feel what others feel, to pray for the needs of others like if we were praying for ourselves [which we know how to do very well] and stand in the gap and prophecy over a generation that is waiting to be led back to God. I know how to complain… but I’m learning how to pray. “For the earnest expectation of creation EAGERLY awaits the revealing of the Sons of God”……. the whole world is waiting for us.
Ezekiel 22:30So I sought for a man among them who would make a wall, and stand in the gap before Me on behalf of the land, that I should not destroy it; but I found no one.
They see dry bones… but we see an army.
12 That is why the Lord says,
“Turn to me now, while there is time.
Give me your hearts.
Come with fasting, weeping, and mourning.
13 Don’t tear your clothing in your grief,
but tear your hearts instead.”
Return to the Lord your God,
for he is merciful and compassionate,
slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love.
He is eager to relent and not punish."
But tear your hearts instead…
For about 2 years God has been wanting me to grow deeper in intercession… and for 2 years I’ve kept him waiting. Whether it was because I was lazy or whatever reason… I know I wasted a lot of time. Last weekend I went to The Call, where it was 12 straight hours of prayer, fasting and intercession. As “cliché” as it may sound, I know my life was changed… and I know something was imparted into me that ignited a fire for intercession and prayer like never before. The very first thing we did before we entered into intercession was to repent. It wasn’t some “lets all silently ask for forgiveness for those things we know we have fallen short from...” Lou Engle [the leader of The Call] said “how can we expect to change a nation if we cant even change ourselves”… if we are still struggling with the same sin, still dealing with the same bad habits.. etc. ; so imagine thousands of people crying in repentance to God… asking God for clean hands and a pure heart, confessing their sins to one another and tearing their hearts before Him. After that, it was intercession for everyone and everything… and I know now more than ever that it moves the heart of God every time he sees His children stand in the gap for His prodigal sons and daughters. The Bible says to let the priests who minister before the Lord [that’s us… now that we are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood..] weep between the porch and the altar interceding for their land so that no one can ever say “where is their God??” [joel 2:17]. I realized that the fervent, effective prayers of the righteous do indeed avail much [james 5:16] and that God is waiting for us to stop complaining and start praying. For us to get back to the ministry of reconciliation… declaring and praying for reconciliation of things that have been broken and torn in peoples lives…to be able to feel what others feel, to pray for the needs of others like if we were praying for ourselves [which we know how to do very well] and stand in the gap and prophecy over a generation that is waiting to be led back to God. I know how to complain… but I’m learning how to pray. “For the earnest expectation of creation EAGERLY awaits the revealing of the Sons of God”……. the whole world is waiting for us.
Ezekiel 22:30So I sought for a man among them who would make a wall, and stand in the gap before Me on behalf of the land, that I should not destroy it; but I found no one.
They see dry bones… but we see an army.
2.04.2008
hope
Hope unsatisfied
This hope that I have to be “complete” inside seems to be completely failing me. I mean, I just came from a weekend of prayer and service and yet here I am in my room, alone, feeling completely empty and weak. I read romans 8 and can’t help but get frustrated at the fact that I am in bondage to the earth and the futility and vanity that it brings. It womps. I’m in a tunnel of earthly darkness and I see the light at the end of it, but I can’t get to the light. Yes, I have this hope that I will one day get to that light that will ultimately fulfill me, but for now, I’m subject to suffering, trying to persevere, continuing to hope. Am I the only one that’s frustrated over this? I am a spirit being trapped in this fleshly suit, completely subjected to the limitations of this earth…and the daily wrestling between me and flesh go on.
The thing about hope is that it’s hope if the thing that is hoped for is unseen. For example, if a girl tells me that she likes me, but that she must wait a year before going out with me, I must go through that year in perseverance having the hope that in that appointed time, we will be together. Now, throughout the year, there will be times where I would sense that she lost those feelings toward me and I will lose all hope and feel completely unsatisfied and discontent. But one look from her and one “flirt” can change it all. Hope is restored. And when hope is restored, perseverance is restored, and now I can wait the year content and satisfied knowing that the girl will be “my girl”. [ note from Solomon the wise: not even the most beautiful of girls can satisfy, so never put your hope in a person to fulfill you]
It’s the same thing with God and eternity, there will be times [ like what I’m feeling right now ], when we will feel very empty and unsatisfied. There will be times when hope is forgotten and life seems like a “vanity of vanities”. But like that special girl, God knows how to flirt. He knows how to restore hope. How so? C.S Lewis said, “God whispers to us in our pleasures” and I think that that’s exactly how God “flirts” with humanity. Its the daily pleasures of eternity wrapped up in time that keeps us going [ prayer, reading, community, marriage, children, etc ]. God won’t completely satisfy us while we remain in this flesh, but He gives us those “eternity in time” moments where we get the sense that WE CAN be satisfied by Something.
And only by that Thing.
so if you're feeling what was feeling like before i wrote this blog, i hope that i can encourage you to persevere, for " i consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us"- Paul, the "least of the saints".
keep hope alive.
[ note to all girls...KEEP HOPE ALIVE!]
“just keep swimming”- Dory, “Finding Nemo”
Jesus is coming.
This hope that I have to be “complete” inside seems to be completely failing me. I mean, I just came from a weekend of prayer and service and yet here I am in my room, alone, feeling completely empty and weak. I read romans 8 and can’t help but get frustrated at the fact that I am in bondage to the earth and the futility and vanity that it brings. It womps. I’m in a tunnel of earthly darkness and I see the light at the end of it, but I can’t get to the light. Yes, I have this hope that I will one day get to that light that will ultimately fulfill me, but for now, I’m subject to suffering, trying to persevere, continuing to hope. Am I the only one that’s frustrated over this? I am a spirit being trapped in this fleshly suit, completely subjected to the limitations of this earth…and the daily wrestling between me and flesh go on.
The thing about hope is that it’s hope if the thing that is hoped for is unseen. For example, if a girl tells me that she likes me, but that she must wait a year before going out with me, I must go through that year in perseverance having the hope that in that appointed time, we will be together. Now, throughout the year, there will be times where I would sense that she lost those feelings toward me and I will lose all hope and feel completely unsatisfied and discontent. But one look from her and one “flirt” can change it all. Hope is restored. And when hope is restored, perseverance is restored, and now I can wait the year content and satisfied knowing that the girl will be “my girl”. [ note from Solomon the wise: not even the most beautiful of girls can satisfy, so never put your hope in a person to fulfill you]
It’s the same thing with God and eternity, there will be times [ like what I’m feeling right now ], when we will feel very empty and unsatisfied. There will be times when hope is forgotten and life seems like a “vanity of vanities”. But like that special girl, God knows how to flirt. He knows how to restore hope. How so? C.S Lewis said, “God whispers to us in our pleasures” and I think that that’s exactly how God “flirts” with humanity. Its the daily pleasures of eternity wrapped up in time that keeps us going [ prayer, reading, community, marriage, children, etc ]. God won’t completely satisfy us while we remain in this flesh, but He gives us those “eternity in time” moments where we get the sense that WE CAN be satisfied by Something.
And only by that Thing.
so if you're feeling what was feeling like before i wrote this blog, i hope that i can encourage you to persevere, for " i consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us"- Paul, the "least of the saints".
keep hope alive.
[ note to all girls...KEEP HOPE ALIVE!]
“just keep swimming”- Dory, “Finding Nemo”
Jesus is coming.
added material to previous post
i read some interesting quotes and so i thought i'd add it to my previous post titled "monks"...and so i did. check it out!
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