In leadership, two things I challenge my participants with are: 1) ask the hard questions, and 2) pray dangerous prayers.
Yesterday, I decided to revisited #2 for myself.
Lately, there's been a new spark in my heart to seek the presence of God with all that I am, knowing that without, I'm running around like an aimless child trying to pin the tail on the donkey.
In that pursuit, through ugly tears, my heart skipped a few beats as I decided to ask God to strip away everything until all I'm left with is Him. It scared the literal hell out of me (yeah, so that's how it really felt). Those are the prayers that I desire my heart to utter more often.
This morning, as I stepped out of my front door and looked into the eyes of the electrical worker across the street, an overwhelming sense of burden hit my heart.
It was in that moment I realized that in the surrender of what I have, God doesn't desire to take those things and smash them on the floor. He wants to lovingly strip the unhealthy as well as enhance, shape, and polish what He has already given me for His purposes – in His rich love.
This was not at all what I was expecting. I expected extreme pain in a different way – things that I just couldn't bare to even think about. But He changed my lenses instead…
I hit the road towards the office and would occasionally look over to greet the passing cars.
At stop lights, I would glance at my fellow commuters and watch. It was just too heavy. I couldn't take it anymore. I immediately began to bawl like a confused child waiting on release from their pain. I, for what seemed to be the first time ever, began to notice generations surrounding me that literally don't know the reality and depth of God's love for them. Uncontrollably the tears flowed… and didn't seem to stop.
Even now, streams of painful yet hopeful tears coat my face as the realization of this should-be crippling reality hits my heart.
I thought about Romans 10:14 and the truth of it. "…how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard?" I thought about the fatal necessity of God's mandate of our lives to make disciples (Matthew 28:19). "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…" I thought about family members, friends, and those that I desperately love. I thought about the nameless, those who have no place of belonging, and those who may never see the light of day – there's just so many. I thought about Jesus' heart for those around him even in His dying moment. I then thought of the intense yearning within me to love strong in His grace and truth… and what it looks like to warm and ignite others around me to choose and clothe themselves in that same love.
Every time I looked over into the passing cars, I saw masked pain, hopelessness, and silent screams of desperation.
I'm starving for Jesus myself, and I can't stand the thought of you not knowing you are loved with a love that desires to take you from your empty and painful longings to being fulfilled in His all.
Two nights ago, I got "messed up" as I worshipped the God that fills His Kingdom with outsiders and misfits, a God whose love never fails, ends, or gives up. He's the God who gracefully welcomes silent screams and desperate cries with a celebration of epic proportion. I told Him that I want to be a man who has nothing but to sing of, speak of, and know the depths of His love. I have every confidence that through encounters with His heart in me, the world will know. It is my heartfelt desire to give away all that I have – whatever it takes – just to see people known, loved, and fulfilled in the Kingdom of God.
Risky business is what Jesus was all about,
and dangerous prayers are answered at dangerous measures.
One thing I've learned: if we're not taking great risks, we're probably not following Jesus…
This heart wrenching burden for generations, old and new, to know His love is a risky and dangerous mandate on my life that reveals all and fulfills all. In my surrender, no matter my messed up perspective on what surrender actually looks like, the only thing smashed is my underrated expectation of what He can do through me.
What dangerous prayers of surrender are on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be screamed?
Let them ring.
Take great risk.
And watch Him make gardens of deserts.
The world awaits…
PS: Don't worry, the last Camino de Santiago blog is coming shortly. The above hit me hard, and I had to share it with you immediately. 😉
