My heart is riled up right now–I am frustrated at this world. I am sick and tired of seeing a mockery being made of God. And, because of these very emotions, I am filled with love for my King. Love so overwhelming. I am full of peace.
God is instilling His passion in me like never before, and I think I might explode. Even this small bit of the Lord’s heart beating in me is enough to overwhelm a weak human being.
He is giving me love.
He is giving me anger.
He is giving me passion.
He is teaching me to pray.
He is giving me strength.
I had a dream last night . . . it moved me to tears.
I my dream I am in a big room and I can see everything and everyone–it is as if I can look into their lives with special glasses that let me see things that no one else can see. It is as if I am seeing stark reality. The room is dark.
I look around me and see a few passionate shining lights in the midst of a dark, miserable world. They are beautiful. They showcase the breath-taking glory of the Lord around them wherever they go. Their lights are fires burning fiercely. They serve a mighty King. But there are so desperately few of them. There are people who flock to them–they want to know this King themselves. Others disdain them; rebuke them for bringing light and realization of truth to a previously entirely dark and oblivious world.
I look around and I see people holding their candles high–candles that are dark and cold. They live lives of Christian facade–whether willfully or unknowingly. They lack any real passion. The passion they do possess is either forced (because it’s the “thing to do”) or it is directed toward the wrong thing. They live their own agendas under the guise of “living for Christ.” They cling to their lives–and yet hold their unlit candles high. These people spend the majority of their strength and time trying to support their facade so that it won’t fall away and expose their deadness. Many people only notice the candle–not the lack of flame.
I look around and I see people who have taken their candle–still in the factory packaging–and hidden it in their closet. No one has ever actually seen their candle. No one is sure if they even have one. They occasionally will mention it when it suits their fancy–or when they’ll sound good for mentioning that they have a candle–but no one quite knows if it’s true. Their lives are practically identical to the people around them who openly declare that they have no light, and no desire for light. Some of them have morals–but they are only there because of what others might think of them. They desire to be thought well of by the “majority group” . . . and yet still make feeble attempts to ease their guilt by mentioning their hidden candle.
I look around and I see people who laugh in the face of light–even at the mere mention of light. They cling so very tightly to their stance against light–they cling to darkness and death (some of them without even realizing it). They are miserable–yet so many are fooled by them, led astray. They look happy and satisfied, but they are ingesting poison. They are happy to share their poison with anyone they possibly can.
I fell to my knees and cried–I saw true passion for God, I saw God being used for selfish purposes, I saw people being led astray, I saw people who were breaking and hurting. Above all, I saw how God loves each of these people–even those who leave a sour taste to the word “Christian”. He is angry, and yet He still loves! He is broken for the people who don’t know the truth. He weeps for them.
Jesus, teach me to love. Give me a brokenness… and such a passion for You that the thought of souls living in darkness and not knowing You causes me to weep…to lose sleep at night at the very thought of their desperation and utter lost-ness. That I would have such a burden for them that I cannot keep silent.