… another 2 hours …

I walked out of the “Pray Big, Pray Bold” prayer meeting last weekend with a very restless heart.  Names and incidents are all intermingled.  There are won victories of snatching a child back, there are also ongoing  battles of losing another child to Satan’s destruction.  I sat there amongst my group with heads all bowed, some knees were on the ground, a box of Kleenex was passed, I had yet to navigate my thoughts of praising Him and advocating before Him in a distance of only a few sentences.  The following image sets the backdrop: 

“My mind filled with the colour of green amongst a crooked, muddy road with pebbles leveling across the street on which bare feet walk.  On one side of the street, there are Rahab’s House, the Lord’s Gym, and the Sanctuary through which light is being shone, praises are being lifted up, echoes are being heard, layers of paints are being co-ordinated, “Goldfish crackers” holy communion are being served (I specially love it how one goldfish cracker filled one up when you no longer munch on Goldfish crackers like you did before).  Across the street, it leaves a pitch of darkness …”

Taking this image in mind, praying through each urgent healing, breathing through His promises over each overwhelming drama, I remember what Jan prayed afterwards that we may not know and fathom with our feeble wisdom how powerful our prayers could do, how our God is listening to ours and is acting upon each one of them.  However, we are armoured with faith of a size of a mustard seed that our prayers are indeed the most powerful weapons.  I pray that sooner than later I could truly understand how powerful it is in His ears when we come together every month to set aside our concerns, to be fully consumed by His alone.  What is squirming below my chest stayed still for those two hours.  Will she feel the weight of His heart too?  I pray that she would. 

Father God, harvest in me a heart of Your joy while sitting next to Your feet praying for each child in Svay Pak. 

Father God, harvest in me Your wisdom while working on the ongoing translation of the website.

Father God, harvest in me the readiness of being sent while the present reality is Your gift of life breathing softly in my arms.

Father God, harvest in me the armour of Your words while treading through the battle with the others in the heat of Svay Pak.   

Your words once again give me strength as I meditate on Psalm 44:1-8:

1 We have heard it with our ears, O God;
       our ancestors have told us
       what you did in their days,
       in days long ago.

    2 With your hand you drove out the nations
       and planted our ancestors;
       you crushed the peoples
       and made our ancestors flourish.

    3 It was not by their sword that they won the land,
       nor did their arm bring them victory;
       it was your right hand, your arm,
       and the light of your face, for you loved them.

    4 You are my King and my God,
       who decrees victories for Jacob.

    5 Through you we push back our enemies;
       through your name we trample our foes.

    6 I put no trust in my bow,
       my sword does not bring me victory;

    7 but you give us victory over our enemies,
       you put our adversaries to shame.

    8 In God we make our boast all day long,
       and we will praise your name forever.”

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