#AtTheRiskOfHolyRolling

 

Dear Lord,

What if, when You left the mission of Your life in the hands of Your disciples, You’d also given them the indwelling power of God? What if ordinary believers were inhabited, infused, with Your creative force and unstoppable, fearless love? What if You crafted a personalized purpose for every Christian, and then supplied the resources to make that work magnificent? What if pure, unhindered faith was a gift available for the asking? What if You were willing to give Your children deep desire and then fulfill it? What if You answered prayer?

Of course, all of those things are true. You call us one by one to follow; You are undaunted by obstacles. You direct our hearts like water in Your hands and do things on a far grander scale than we expect—abundantly, generously beyond all we ask or imagine. Your highest call upon our lives is to know You and to make You known, and to that end You delight in conversation with us, You long for us to willingly submit to and listen to You, You unstintingly provide all we need to accomplish the task You set before us. Your goal, however, is not our prosperity, our impressive service, or our fame; Your will is not laid out for us like a road map; Your eternal timeline does not condescend to cooperate with ours.

No, You are not shy to lead us through valleys or struggling up mountains. You are comfortable with mystery, letting us feel doubt and confusion. You are not slow in the grand scheme of things, but excruciatingly slow for impatient human hearts trapped in time. Even so, all You seem to ask is that we simply love, listen, and obey. We are not required to understand or anticipate Your work or its outcome, only to keep in step with Your Spirit.

Ah, Your Spirit. This is one of the great mysteries of the gospel, that God Himself would come to dwell in mortal hearts. Not part of God. Not a dim reflection of God. God Himself, the Holy Spirit—windy power, Word of Life, Breath. You, Holy Spirit, undiminished in force and glory, are available to every follower, ready and able to equip us for every good work. Why then do we see so little of Your power in our lives? We give You the weak and watery leftovers of our imagination, our listless prayers, the scraps of our too-busy days, and wonder why You don’t appear with the strength of Niagara Falls. We are like the boy in Aesop’s story, who put his hand into a jar and grabbed a handful of filberts. With his greedy hand already full, his fist got stuck. He would never taste one nut until he let go of the rest. We fill our greedy hands, our mouths, our days, with other things, and then wonder why we cannot taste You.

Lord, I want to taste You! I want to feel your power course through my veins like leaping cataracts. I want to let go of lesser things and let you be unleashed in me. I want to be a conduit of grace and not an obstacle to it. I want to see You do in me, through me, more than I could ever ask or imagine. I want the power of very God to burst out of my life like the bursting of the Johnstown dam. I am nothing. I am nobody. Not because I deserve Your flood in my life could it ever be, but because I am just one of your children, swept up in your tsunami of love.

Give me an undivided heart, Lord, for all the rest of my thirty thousand days. I am so sorry for wasting a single minute in stagnant pursuit of me. I want more of You. In spite of how many I have squandered in the past, give me the supernatural surrender to lay down before You all of my minutes, henceforth. Teach me to wait on You constantly, pray to You without ceasing, listen to You with pure attention, see You everywhere, hear You loud, like the roar of mighty waters, love You with all of my being. Make me a waterfall of grace.

I cannot do any of those things apart from You. Holy Spirit, fill me, I pray.

Photo credit: Nick Harris1 on Visual hunt / CC BY-ND

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