Open Hands

Some of the faithful prayer warriors and Ben 

Monday was one of those days. You know....you catch yourself taking deep breaths and your mind is racing with all that you must tackle before the sun sets. I have to tell you, I was feeling pretty good up until Monday. I think the reality of leaving for Zambia in less than a week had started to sink in. My list was long and the hours I had available to cross everything off that list was (and is) shrinking.

As I sat that morning in my porch journaling, I was asking God what word He wants me to know or claim for this trip. Nothing came to me at that point so I went on with my day. Then, we headed off as the evening came and my time for the list on my dining room table officially came to a close.

We had been invited to attend a prayer meeting in Elgin through a friend of ours who works for International Teams. After a small detour we found the House of Prayer and entered through the red doors (appropriate color as we think about what it took so we could freely go to our Father in Heaven in prayer!). What we entered was Holy. A place where normal, everyday people came to pray about the issue of sex trafficking and prostitution. Those present welcomed us in and we immediately felt at home. Suddenly that list back home on top of a million other pieces of paper did not matter.

What mattered was that we were in the presence of God. As I lay on the floor with my hands turned up and opened towards the heavens, the word came to me. RECEIVE. Receive what I want to give, was what it seemed God was saying to me. Be open to the gifts I want you to accept from me. That is my word for this trip. I will open my hands to RECEIVE the pouring out of His blessings. That in all things, sufferings, trials, pain, and good times, the gift of His presence, His love, His salvation, His peace, His Son, His Word, His Kingdom, His forgiveness and His Spirit can enter my life with an open and prepared heart. That was exactly where God wanted me on that stressed filled Monday night. In prayer, on my face, for then, I could hear His voice.

Romans 8:15-"For you did not receive a spirit  that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father."

This is a precious reminder as I get ready to go back to Zambia. I am going to give something, yes, but more importantly I am going to be filled up with all that God wants to impart to me in His Abba Father kind of way.

"You provide the fire and I'll provide the sacrifice....You provide your Spirit and I'll open up inside...Fill me up God, Fill me up God, Fill me up God...."----Jesus Culture