I shoot out of bed as if I have been woken up by a noise, a loud noise. I grab my phone to turn off the alarm that I always have set but never use to get me up, not for many months. It is 5:55 am. I instantly get very excited and prepare for my morning. It is God time - just me and Him and whatever it is He has in store for me this morning and my fingers and mind that He gave me for His will and His purpose. Within minutes I am here, on this computer and wondering what will come out of the ashes of this man He saved on that day back in February two years ago. The clock ticks away.
I think of the changes I have made in my life over that time. I never pictured The Church being this way, or the Holy Spirit working this way. I am a sinner turned saint that spends a lot less time in dire anxiety about my sin, and a lot more time focused on His direction. I see two churches nowadays. That one out there that is a Sunday morning charade of sorts, and attached to religion and legalism and works and void of the Spirit that fills me, and this one. The one within me that has members scattered all over the place and is bold and placed in a wilderness but emerging ever more every day, and it is taking a stand against the many - and they are our own people. Well, at least they see it that way. It is a tough life that takes the callous of my past and to spend time reaching out to people who already go to church, but ever so clearly, do not belong in it. They call themselves Catholic and Mormon and so on and have no idea how far away they are from the truth. I have a job to do, and it is not pretty. It is beautiful. And the clock ticks away.
I wonder if they hear the voice of my Lord as I do. It is frustrating being a salve to help the blind see, when they spend so much time in the churches and literature and doctrines and traditions that have so little to do with God and so much more to do with nothing at all. It looks like Jesus, and it talks like Jesus, but it is not of or by Him, and certainly not for Him. These people abandon me eventually, friends and family and the temporary Christians in my life. They cannot seem to have the ability to seek the Father through Christ Jesus alone, and I pray in these times to be a better speaker, teacher, son and friend. But oh so many times at the end of the day, it is me and My God, and I find my rest there. Sometimes in tears, and sometimes in ball under the covers wondering what is going on in this world and why they don't listen. I press on. He is my covering.
I do not know why He chose me, I was so foolish and sinful and people think I am out there. I wish they would come into His fold. They cannot do so without a man and His degree in a pulpit on a Sunday. The wisdom of God within me would blow theirs away like chaff - but our gifts are not a sideshow of what we know, it is Who we know, and we know - He knows us. For the Bride of Christ, that is enough. And the clock, ticks away.
