sunday, november 17, 2002
Even before the words make it off the tip of my tongue, I know I can't quite say what I want to say the way I want to say it. I’ve never been eloquent with spoken words. Never.
But put a sheet of paper in front of me and hand me a ballpoint pen, and the words just seem to roll off the tip as naturally as it is for me to breathe in and breathe out.
I wish I had that kind of eloquence and ease when trying to express verbally the matters weighing heavily on my heart. But instead, it comes out as sarcastic remarks, cheesy comments, or empty sentences. I’m convinced it’s really an injustice for me to even open my mouth in public. I think the Lord may be teaching me to be more silent and thoughtful than outspoken and boisterous.
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After a weekend packed with incredible worship and praise sessions (Saturday in the city and Sunday night in Rhode Island with Rita Springer), I thought my heart would feel lighter and renewed, uplifted and encouraged. And though these things did occur, it also made me re-evaluate so many things. The state of this world, our nation, this city, and my own heart.
I desire to live my life for His glory, to delight in His presence, and to be a light for His Kingdom. And yet it’s when I have this desire that I’m more aware of the brokenness, the hurting, the devastation, the emptiness, the sin that not only surrounds me but is within me. It's because I ask the Lord to let me see the world through His eyes; that my heart be burdened with the things that weigh heavily on His.
And when I see a glimpse of these things, I experience a moment of heartwrenching sadness and compassion that consume my spirit. But I'm uplifted and renewed once I’m reminded of the truth and the freedom of the Gospel. I know He completed the good work on the Cross, and He continues to work daily in and through our lives.
A spark’s been lit. And this is just the beginning of a refining fire that will spread from the north to the south, the east and the west, and to all corners of the earth.
rewind forward
Copyright © 2002 Rachel Young
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