… scribbles …

“Waking up to His words still fresh in my mind.  Welcoming rays of sunlight as we prepared ourselves.  Leaving our children at home.  Packing our bags not to go anywhere warm and sunny with a beach, but to go on an appointment with the Lord.  On the way driving there, we had all the luxury of space and time of 25 minutes to share and to have deep conversation without interruption nor music.  I shared openly with Paul what I read last night and the day before on His words, and the overwhelming affirmation from the Lord that His promises ring true to the hearing.  His words shaked my body to the touch. Overflowing current of His words and His promises were interwinning with the prayer requests as we lay opened the bulletin, on which an “initialled” person was named with a brief text-wrapped circumstance.   Those to me were not circumstance nor person that we prayed into, but it’s the breathing through and carrying each of the circumstance and person mentioned into the promises of the Lord and boldly claiming it in the name of Jesus.  Started off with Isaiah 55 as soon as one of us mentioned about the prison outreach program.  Such promises of redemption and the gift of coming for water when you are thirsty struck once again how merciful our Lord is.  I couldn’t hold the floodgate of tear and just wept and wept.  I kneeled on the floor with my arms bended on the chair to support a heart so heavy to carry let alone to sustain the life in me.   It’s when we make war on our knees, we can stand to see You greatness and power to save and redeem.  A posture that is not half willing and not half hesitating, but one that gives utterly and willingly.  Before You, My Lord and My King, I want to give You the honest whole of me. Your strong hand and Your authority in every square on that monument is all I could interpret, not the hands of the victims, but Your hands, Lord, scooping down, taking up the majority of the space of each of the square, for only Your hands are able to reach down to rescue and restore.  That’s not the hands of the suffering, but the hands of hope, the hands of the Lord, the hands of His presence, intruding into the sin of all sin of children being abused.

His presence takes on residency on that very square.

His presence established right where He belongs to.

His presence being acknowledged and exalted in His rightful place.

Him being adorned, being worshipped, being looked up to, being hoped for, being waited for!!

It’s You, Lord, Your presence in that monument of remembering every suffering and also every redemption, every beating of your heart when you see a child, or a man, or a woman, being ripped apart by the lies of the enemy. Psalm 27 were in my prayers again when praying for foster care staff, house moms, social workers.  One lady shared with me about Psalm 10 and how she randomly flipped to that in the middle of intercession which has never come across her eyes before.  What a significant psalm in these years being in this ministry.  The enemy will Terrify No More in the name of Jesus.”

… a month old’s scribbled journal entry …



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