Holy spirit what is this pure at heart that you speak of? Every time I try to do a pure thing.. poor motives or intentions lie behind them. Sometimes irritation, frustration, and selfish gain. I am sick of myself.. you see it all though don't you? You said the Pure at heart will see God, those who have clean hands. Father give me clean hands grant me a pure heart. Right now I just seek junk, but bring me a little lower. Allow to me to give up, let go, and run hard. Right now I am stuck, I am sleepy, I'm selfish, prideful,fearful, insecure, and hard at heart. Holy spirit come and bring the oil...
Here is my heart. Renew it. Cause my heart to trust you, and please tend to it so that it will be alive on the inside.
Everyday is a day to trust you. Everday is a choice to love you, and to lavish my love on you. Cause me to walk in obedience, to walk with intergrity and to bring your heart Joy you see the secret things. Father is calling me into a intimate setting with just me and him. Father help me endure till the end.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Hope deferred makes the heart sick. prov 13:12
Here I am.
Ground zero.
Starting over.
I'm looking back at my 20 years of age and am trying to gather all the scraps together wondering what it's all looking like as of now.
I seem to be a little lost in a whirlwind of high hopes, empty dreams, and reality checks. I'm in a cloud and I see what I long for, what I can perceive with my eye. But I'm waiting in the cloud that the Lord has put me in, I guess he's wanting me to seek him and him only. I keep trying to strain my eyes to see if there's any hint of any dreams or visions coming to pass, but I don't see any hope. I'll just have to seek him, get over my impatience, and learn how to rest in him. Sometimes it's a lot easier to love my beloved when I know where's he's taking me, it's a lot easier to trust him when I see with my own eyes the visions unfold. But right now I don't.. not even a stir of the lifeless vision. Here it lay dead. A vision that I don't have enough hope to invest in. So I prayed to you father, and I told you I didn't want that dead vision, for it was no good. From now on it will just be a faint picture in my head, that's painted over with realities of boring college, and lifeless careers that keep you practical. This is where my heart grew faint, and maybe even a little cold.. my heart grew sick because hope was deferred. Surely YOU ARE A GOOD FATHER, is what I kept telling myself and if your not a man that you shall lie.. than in the end whether this vision ever ressurects itself or not. Things are going to turn out victorias, joyful, and fulfilling. I have to hope, I have to paint pictures of the impossible in my mind's eye.
Sometimes I wish I had more vision for the here and now, or that maybe I was one that God called for a pracitcal college career. But sadly I see another picture that I can't get out of mind. I see zealous young people flooding the streets of San Fransisco with authority and boldness. When you look into their eyes, they flood love, and forgiveness. They never let go and they always hope, they'll run after your soul and plead for mercy to a GOOD GOD that can save you. I see them rustling through the busy streets of the city, with eyes on the prize and ears inclined the holy spirit their best friend. He whispers to them thoughts of hope and ressurection a message to be preached to the select few. And when we give the message it floods out of our hearts and you can see it in our eyes.. we've spent time in prayer for you. I see college students with utterings of visions and prophecy on their lips as they present a bold Gospel on Pier 39. You zelous african american's, and asians break dance prophetically claiming the streets with their moves. I see the Gospel like bread the broken and the homeless in San Fransisco. They are fed, and are gladly satisfied with something that finally took the hunger out of their soul. I see me, painted with tattoos, styling the hipsters hair or pouring some coffee over a genuine conversation of the state of ones soul. Love leaps out of my heart, and my eyes of full of compassion because that morning I got up and prayed for that person. I see myself riding my yellow bicycle all across town, joy in my heart knowing that Jesus saves and he loves to do so. For the crack addict I glance at, for the small shriveled asian man selling those beads on the corner of the street. I ride my bike down haight street, a familiar place in my heart I'm wrestling with despair against revival. I walk through the clouds of confusion, and universalism I step through the fog of marijuana and the loud city streets. I see young kids who have given their souls over to finding something.. anything.. that could be real or authentic. Kids that haven't bathed in months and hold dearly onto the ideas of anarchy and liberality. They want no morals yet their hearts are so very wounded from unclaimed boundries everyone seems to rebelliously cross. There is no security except the pride in the their heart, and the fact that they live by their own rules and are fighting to keep themselves dying. These are the streets of the early years of Janis Joplin where she fell in love with drugs, and the free love movement. These kids are holding fast to the hippy age. I see myself praying for these kids, hoping that this will be the day that I see some hearts melt when I see some pride broken. But I have to fight through the confusion, fighting through the mindset of truth being relative in the city of peace. I see myself having a heart of a fighter, a heart of a lover, I invite people to live with me under no circumstances other than they be hungry for Jesus and honest. I see me and my husband having a Keith Green ministry, we are zelous for the Gospel and hoping to see moves of the holy spirit breath on the dry bones around us. We'll meet anywhere, love anyone, pray at anytime we just long to see Jesus move and to be motivated by love and compelled by righteousness. We are young and don't know much, we're light hearted and don't know what we're doing half the time but we're best friends and we love Jesus. I see me with two little boys, they bring joy to my heart and prayer is developed into me it becomes a love language of mine, more like a habit of putting on clothes I put on prayer. Being poured out like a drink offering I pour out the love of the father into the streets of San Fransisco, and I let her know that truth she is so desperately seeking for can be quenched by the deep wells of the love of father. I work as a well digger, one who will put in the time and effort to see a few at first enter the kingdom of God. I long for him to father my heart, and to be a joyful Dad to those he set aside for his good pleasure. But like I said this is only a foggy vision.. a dream left lifeless for now.
Right now he's giving me the pastoral heart, for the girls I share a house with.I don't even see what's infront of me. The times I could be praying I've wasted away, yet longing for a break through I find myself feeling stuck. Just wanting to have fun, or find a way to ignore responsibility. I feel like the holy spirit is always mad at me, so I avoid spending time with him. In actuality when he tugs at my heart and asks me to speak, it's usually like a light kiss not a harmful punch. I don't spend time with Jesus lately, mostly because I suppose I keep myself busy. Or I'm sick of my heart being sick, I'm being impatient and question if he loves me.I can't sit still I just want him to move already..I can't spend time with him because I'm still wrestling with living mediocre. The boring college life seems pretty save.. and I'm not about to plunge off a cliff for a vision I only see a faint picture of. I'm sick of this vision, I'm sick of my heart, and I feel sick of Jesus. Yet I have no where else to go, I've left everything for him and my heart desires nothing less than him and his fullness for my life. To bring kingdom down to earth, is what my soul pants for. I keep trying to convince myself to settle for someone that's not the keith green, but I can't bring myself to. Or to forget about a life higher than mediocre expectations.Father you have to give me eyes for the here and now, you have to help me see what's infront of my face. The preperation you have for me seems mundane, but embed discipline in me a life of prayer father.
This is why I'm at ground zero, I refuse to look at the lifeless vision that only he can ressurect. Yet I also refuse to be a christian and be mediocre.. I'm either going to force myself to live it up as a sinner. Or I'm really going to go after him, and the people that he's calling me to shephard. This is my dilemna, I honestly just need to have him. Whatever that means, I can't trust that even if I spend time with him if I actually know what he says. I just don't want to misinterpret anymore ..so I'm going to spend time with a mute God. I'm going to try to spend time with him, with no direction for future plans. I'm just going to ask that he holds me and brings me peace for my sick heart.
12 Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life" prov. 13:12
Father I ask that you let me eat from the tree of life, it doesn't have to be now. But father satisfy me.
Ground zero.
Starting over.
I'm looking back at my 20 years of age and am trying to gather all the scraps together wondering what it's all looking like as of now.
I seem to be a little lost in a whirlwind of high hopes, empty dreams, and reality checks. I'm in a cloud and I see what I long for, what I can perceive with my eye. But I'm waiting in the cloud that the Lord has put me in, I guess he's wanting me to seek him and him only. I keep trying to strain my eyes to see if there's any hint of any dreams or visions coming to pass, but I don't see any hope. I'll just have to seek him, get over my impatience, and learn how to rest in him. Sometimes it's a lot easier to love my beloved when I know where's he's taking me, it's a lot easier to trust him when I see with my own eyes the visions unfold. But right now I don't.. not even a stir of the lifeless vision. Here it lay dead. A vision that I don't have enough hope to invest in. So I prayed to you father, and I told you I didn't want that dead vision, for it was no good. From now on it will just be a faint picture in my head, that's painted over with realities of boring college, and lifeless careers that keep you practical. This is where my heart grew faint, and maybe even a little cold.. my heart grew sick because hope was deferred. Surely YOU ARE A GOOD FATHER, is what I kept telling myself and if your not a man that you shall lie.. than in the end whether this vision ever ressurects itself or not. Things are going to turn out victorias, joyful, and fulfilling. I have to hope, I have to paint pictures of the impossible in my mind's eye.
Sometimes I wish I had more vision for the here and now, or that maybe I was one that God called for a pracitcal college career. But sadly I see another picture that I can't get out of mind. I see zealous young people flooding the streets of San Fransisco with authority and boldness. When you look into their eyes, they flood love, and forgiveness. They never let go and they always hope, they'll run after your soul and plead for mercy to a GOOD GOD that can save you. I see them rustling through the busy streets of the city, with eyes on the prize and ears inclined the holy spirit their best friend. He whispers to them thoughts of hope and ressurection a message to be preached to the select few. And when we give the message it floods out of our hearts and you can see it in our eyes.. we've spent time in prayer for you. I see college students with utterings of visions and prophecy on their lips as they present a bold Gospel on Pier 39. You zelous african american's, and asians break dance prophetically claiming the streets with their moves. I see the Gospel like bread the broken and the homeless in San Fransisco. They are fed, and are gladly satisfied with something that finally took the hunger out of their soul. I see me, painted with tattoos, styling the hipsters hair or pouring some coffee over a genuine conversation of the state of ones soul. Love leaps out of my heart, and my eyes of full of compassion because that morning I got up and prayed for that person. I see myself riding my yellow bicycle all across town, joy in my heart knowing that Jesus saves and he loves to do so. For the crack addict I glance at, for the small shriveled asian man selling those beads on the corner of the street. I ride my bike down haight street, a familiar place in my heart I'm wrestling with despair against revival. I walk through the clouds of confusion, and universalism I step through the fog of marijuana and the loud city streets. I see young kids who have given their souls over to finding something.. anything.. that could be real or authentic. Kids that haven't bathed in months and hold dearly onto the ideas of anarchy and liberality. They want no morals yet their hearts are so very wounded from unclaimed boundries everyone seems to rebelliously cross. There is no security except the pride in the their heart, and the fact that they live by their own rules and are fighting to keep themselves dying. These are the streets of the early years of Janis Joplin where she fell in love with drugs, and the free love movement. These kids are holding fast to the hippy age. I see myself praying for these kids, hoping that this will be the day that I see some hearts melt when I see some pride broken. But I have to fight through the confusion, fighting through the mindset of truth being relative in the city of peace. I see myself having a heart of a fighter, a heart of a lover, I invite people to live with me under no circumstances other than they be hungry for Jesus and honest. I see me and my husband having a Keith Green ministry, we are zelous for the Gospel and hoping to see moves of the holy spirit breath on the dry bones around us. We'll meet anywhere, love anyone, pray at anytime we just long to see Jesus move and to be motivated by love and compelled by righteousness. We are young and don't know much, we're light hearted and don't know what we're doing half the time but we're best friends and we love Jesus. I see me with two little boys, they bring joy to my heart and prayer is developed into me it becomes a love language of mine, more like a habit of putting on clothes I put on prayer. Being poured out like a drink offering I pour out the love of the father into the streets of San Fransisco, and I let her know that truth she is so desperately seeking for can be quenched by the deep wells of the love of father. I work as a well digger, one who will put in the time and effort to see a few at first enter the kingdom of God. I long for him to father my heart, and to be a joyful Dad to those he set aside for his good pleasure. But like I said this is only a foggy vision.. a dream left lifeless for now.
Right now he's giving me the pastoral heart, for the girls I share a house with.I don't even see what's infront of me. The times I could be praying I've wasted away, yet longing for a break through I find myself feeling stuck. Just wanting to have fun, or find a way to ignore responsibility. I feel like the holy spirit is always mad at me, so I avoid spending time with him. In actuality when he tugs at my heart and asks me to speak, it's usually like a light kiss not a harmful punch. I don't spend time with Jesus lately, mostly because I suppose I keep myself busy. Or I'm sick of my heart being sick, I'm being impatient and question if he loves me.I can't sit still I just want him to move already..I can't spend time with him because I'm still wrestling with living mediocre. The boring college life seems pretty save.. and I'm not about to plunge off a cliff for a vision I only see a faint picture of. I'm sick of this vision, I'm sick of my heart, and I feel sick of Jesus. Yet I have no where else to go, I've left everything for him and my heart desires nothing less than him and his fullness for my life. To bring kingdom down to earth, is what my soul pants for. I keep trying to convince myself to settle for someone that's not the keith green, but I can't bring myself to. Or to forget about a life higher than mediocre expectations.Father you have to give me eyes for the here and now, you have to help me see what's infront of my face. The preperation you have for me seems mundane, but embed discipline in me a life of prayer father.
This is why I'm at ground zero, I refuse to look at the lifeless vision that only he can ressurect. Yet I also refuse to be a christian and be mediocre.. I'm either going to force myself to live it up as a sinner. Or I'm really going to go after him, and the people that he's calling me to shephard. This is my dilemna, I honestly just need to have him. Whatever that means, I can't trust that even if I spend time with him if I actually know what he says. I just don't want to misinterpret anymore ..so I'm going to spend time with a mute God. I'm going to try to spend time with him, with no direction for future plans. I'm just going to ask that he holds me and brings me peace for my sick heart.
12 Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life" prov. 13:12
Father I ask that you let me eat from the tree of life, it doesn't have to be now. But father satisfy me.
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