“Was there a lot of people where you ate?”
“Okay, good because people are following you”.
“Don’t talk, people can hear you”.
Dad: “This is my house; I have the right to talk”.
“Why did you come? Leave.”
“You have to stay in the house. Do it for me. You have to stay in the living room. I’ll be back”.
So I stay.
My mom’s struggles have gotten worse. Even with more prayer from my friends and I, the devil is working that much harder to pursue the means to establish an end. To clarify, I think the devil has such a footing in every move that she makes; he has pinned her down with tacks on a bulletin board with the heading: “Slave”. Lord, don’t give up on her.
I’m not saying that I’ve lost hope. Oh, no. If anything, the devil’s vile agenda makes me shun him even more- that I need more of God’s grace – that I can’t lose the anointing that I’ve gained from worship; I need to intercede and ask the Holy Spirit to spread more fertilizer; there needs to be greener grass in my family.
As we’re eating our lasagna, my dad perpetuates an oily feeling inside of me; I don’t want to listen; I know there’s a resemblance, but I yearn for my God who is stronger. I paraphrase his story: “There is a grandma who I’ve helped move from different cities because she tells me ‘whenever I leave the house, items are missing. People are stealing my stuff.’ Although she has no true valuables, she insists that she will always stay in the house to watch over her belongings. She’s a grandma- that may explain her condition, but your mom isn’t different from her”.
Lord, I wait upon you. Strengthen her.
Before, priest-school I let my my pride and complacency build up to a climatic shallowness; I was never consistently sensitive to God’s heart, if anything I was extremely pharisaic: sensitive to my self-ambitions and self-righteousness.
Only since April 2010, have I truly been filled with the spirit- that the reality of His truth dwells richly inside of me.
During the years when I collected numbness and callousness in my heart, I let down the gates of His protection; I let the devil trample me back to the dirt. He picked me up, and breathed new life into me. He invited me back to priest-school; this time I was truly going to host God’s presence in my life through obedience.
From preschool to my post-undergrad years, I’ve experienced ‘God in this City, but there are greater things to be done here’.
Let Christ do the supernatural; Let Him be the restorer. If you haven’t asked Him to enroll you into priest-school, ask Him right now. Without abiding in His presence, we are expelled.
These days, my life has been structured in 35 minute intervals.
Studying for the LSAT might resonate with chemotherapy. The beginning is tough; I need to acquire the proper test taking skills and constantly struggle with every pill (problem) to start making it the norm. But then I begin to vomit and visibly see a dark orange urine flow out; toxins are coming out of the human body, and I start feeling very vulnerable asking myself, “Can I really make it through?” I sometimes see almost half of my answers marked incorrectly, and tell myself it really isn’t easy. After a few minutes of contemplation, I recollect good thoughts such as “Hey, look at the answers I did get right and build upon that”. Then with a deep breath, I clock the next 35 minutes.
Some processes build character; there is no true commitment to tasks and goals that are easy. Commitment comes with insecurity, but repetition and sincerity makes the journey smoother. I look at the end of the tunnel not to seek a setting sunset, but to see a sunrise. And that is precisely what I visualize when I study for the LSAT; without Christ there is no sunrise, but only the tunnel.
I study with the anticipation to participate in your kingdom- that every problem I read, answer, and bubble will give you glory. Knowing that I am not smart, I try to swim even when the tide comes in only because you are there to guide me. I have seven weeks until I take the test, but regardless of how I do, You deserve all praise.
Don’t get God backwards. He is not a dog. He is GOD.
Blasphemy! How could anyone treat God with treats?
Where is the reverence for Him who has made us co-heirs with Christ? Where is the praise for Him who has given us song? How dare we defile the name of the Holy and Almighty God who does not need anything from us nor does He need anyone to be GOD. He is who He is.
This is my story: Before I participated in sincere worship, I joined a game of fetch. I told God to fetch me the pleasures and desires of this world, and that in return, I’d give him mere compliments. Don’t get me wrong; gratitude was plenty! I loved Him when I loved Him. But I did not love Him in all seasons, and did not love as constant as the rising sun. I would hate the thought of having a dog that would make a mess- that a dog as low in nature as it is to waste my time to clean up after it. Oh, but I loved the idea of a God who fixed my life when I was low- that I would be cleaned up to be covered in sin the next day. In April 2010, it was not He who got on all fours, but it was me; I fell on my knees and declared that His majesty deserves my all. Thank God, He is not a dog; rather He is greater than I and more wise than creation itself.