I worked the socially debilitating Friday-Monday stretch, and all I could do was anticipate a free evening. Now that it has arrived, my home is uncomfortably quiet. I don't understand: God has spoke to me in a profound splash this week, and everything should be wonderful. His presence has been a mighty comfort most every moment of my week. So why at bedtime do I feel this void? I know if I was at work, I'd be busy enough for all this to subside. What more can my spirit want?
He is no less present now than He has ever been, and yet it seems He allows these moments to stir my heart for longing. But I'm kind of sick of longing. What progress is in it? How much would He have me pray for her? It's emotionally exhausting, and yet my body cannot rest.
I just feel that I need to be honest here. In the big picture, nothing has changed. God is leading me into an apostolic work for His Bride, and I'm totally ready to follow in faith. It's good. But something -- some grace -- is lacking, and I know it whenever He allows me to recognize it.
I'm growing old and weary of waiting for you, and I know that you must be nothing short of amazing. I know that we will stir one another's fire for His call upon our lives and that we will never enjoy doing apart what we could be doing together. So whenever my grace arrives, so will a new joy. We will sing a new song before the Lord because of His goodness.
God, I need few reminders that this is your covenant with me, but if you must stoke the flame, remain with me this evening in a strong way.
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