I woke at 2:00, and after I got done tripping and falling down the stairs....I could not sleep. And began to think and to try to pray, but found, as has been the case lately, that praying is exceedingly difficult. Seems like I'm trying to make myself heard through a ten foot thick concrete encasement in which I'm trapped.
But God began, instead to talk to me. I cannot go into all of what he told me, if you are in the Lord, you will probably understand what he told me...Some of it, I wrote down in an online journal, the rest is just in my heart. ... If you are not one of the Master's children, doubtless all of this will seem like nonsense to you and you will attribute it to my "precarious mental state"...and that's okay. You can think that. The truth is that God opened my eyes to the fact of my entrapment in that concrete jail. My difficulty in prayer and the image I had of being imprisoned were not only metaphorical but literal. The prison is that of pride, religiousity, and judgmentalism, among other lovely qualities. Qualities from hell, that is. The enemy had taken me captive and then enticed me to weave my own prison bars from such characteristics as these...And that prison kept me from true worship. It kept me from any power and consistency in prayer such as I used to have. It kept me from loving others with a non-critical heart. It kept me from real connection to other believers...and since I also did not fit in with unbelievers because even in my prison, I am a child of the King...well I was quite isolated and lonely.
And now that the Master has opened my eyes, and opened the gates of my jailcell, and once more opened my ears to his voice....
well...things will be different.
But God began, instead to talk to me. I cannot go into all of what he told me, if you are in the Lord, you will probably understand what he told me...Some of it, I wrote down in an online journal, the rest is just in my heart. ... If you are not one of the Master's children, doubtless all of this will seem like nonsense to you and you will attribute it to my "precarious mental state"...and that's okay. You can think that. The truth is that God opened my eyes to the fact of my entrapment in that concrete jail. My difficulty in prayer and the image I had of being imprisoned were not only metaphorical but literal. The prison is that of pride, religiousity, and judgmentalism, among other lovely qualities. Qualities from hell, that is. The enemy had taken me captive and then enticed me to weave my own prison bars from such characteristics as these...And that prison kept me from true worship. It kept me from any power and consistency in prayer such as I used to have. It kept me from loving others with a non-critical heart. It kept me from real connection to other believers...and since I also did not fit in with unbelievers because even in my prison, I am a child of the King...well I was quite isolated and lonely.
And now that the Master has opened my eyes, and opened the gates of my jailcell, and once more opened my ears to his voice....
well...things will be different.
No comments:
Post a Comment