Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it

This post isn’t much about the previous week, but about what is to come.   Last week I learned a valuable lesson:   The power of spoken words.   It wasn’t until Friday night that I realized the words I was speaking to myself were bringing death rather than life. “Set a guard over my mouth, O Lord, keep watch over the door of my lips.   Let not my heart be drawn to what is evil, to take part in wicked deeds with men who are evildoers; let me not eat of their delicacies.”—Psalm 141:3-4   What’s done is done.   Week seven is upon me, and even as I have the second half to accomplish, I feel it is the end.   God has called me to this summer for a specific purpose, but it has yet to be fulfilled.   He is asking me to be bold, and I this is only the surface of how deep He wants to take me.   I have also learned that being expectant of results is not a bad thing.   Last week I expected myself to sell a lot of books, and I did.   I finally...

“Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need; rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me.   Set me free from my prison, that I may praise your name.   Then the righteous will gather about me because of your goodness to me.”—Psalm 142: 6-7 “Heavenly Father, please…please…just be here.   Just meet me.   Please come to meet me where I am.   I cling to you.   I need you.   Abba!   Help me, Father.   Let your mercy come speedily to meet me, for I am in desperate need.” Repeat that prayer all day.   It never gets old out here.   I’ve had my “best week” out here so far, and I didn’t do any of it.   Tuesday around five o’clock I was knocking on empty doors with tears in my eyes.   No one seemed to be home, and I was getting tired of it.   Somehow, no one on the street had kids.   Somehow, no one wanted to hear what I had to say.   After driving past this run-down trailer about three times,...

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders.   And he will be called Wonderful Couselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.   Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end.”—Isaiah 9:6-7 Okay, my Sunday night blogs are now starting to form a pattern.   This pattern surrounds the word “exhaustion”.   At breakfast this past week I read the verse in Isaiah 9 and began to cry.   I’m tired.   I feel a little like Israel at this point.   When, WHEN will I find rest?   Back during the Christmas season I listened to a sermon on the “angst of waiting”.   It magnified the prophecy in those verses and how Israel must have felt when they realized finally they were no longer going to be tossed from one government to the other.   “and the government will be upon his shoulders…” O come, O come Emmanuel.           ...

One:  Everyone on earth is selling books. The only difference between me and Mrs. Jones is the temporary comfort of her living room.  I peer through the window into the calm home.  There’s a plush couch in the corner with a vase of flowers in the middle of the coffee table.  In spite of the state of her crisp, clean house I know by her weathered face that she’s just as drained as I.    Do we get it that this whole world is tired, beat down, restless, and exhausted?     “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”—Matthew 11:28-30 Two: At one point in the week I wondered if there was anyone who would listen to my plea.  I just wanted to stand on the street corner and shout, “Who wants some books?!”  Instead of course, I pursue...