"I count myself one of the number of those who write as they learn and learn as they write." ~St. Augustine

Thursday, March 31, 2011

A Wet Map

Sometimes I find it difficult to write about tender moment here. I find myself feeling shy about blogging moments that are so sweet, so special, so painful, so... wordless, really. And yet, I know that my journey in writing has significantly impacted my lessons-learned. My Father has used the act of writing itself as an integral avenue to solidifying experiences.

And so I write. I just can't help myself. Like St. Augustine said, "I count myself one of the number of those who write as they learn and learn as they write."

I wept today. I cried buckets of tears. My body wracked with emotional pain as I wept over the map spread out at my feet. I wet the map with my tears and cried out to my kind Father to "Shine!" How long did I even pray? I don't know. Time stood still as I prayed from Psalm 67 ... I cried with the words and asked my Father for His work.
May God be gracious to us and bless us and make His face sine on us...
so that Your ways may be known on the earth, Your salvation among the nations!
May the peoples praise You, God!
May all the peoples praise You.
May the nations be glad and sing for joy!
I wept for the lost and for the oppressed. I wept for the nations that have little, if no, witness. I wept for the children, the women, ... the nations. I cried for the peoples of the earth.
I prayed for those hidden, quiet places of hearts and homes where God's Spirit shows up! I prayed for those conversations over tea, the dreams, the book found, those Internet moments... clicking on a Christian link ... I prayed. And, I wept and I interceded.
And, as Michael Card sings, "I cried just one of His tears".

"So open my eyes and open my heart
Grant me the gift of Your grieving
Awaken in me the compassion to weep
Just one of the tears of the world."

As I cried, on this cloudy, dark,grey day, the sun peeked through and literally shone through the window onto my prostrate body... As I asked Him to "Shine on the nations!", the sun poured forth warmth. Light lit the small prayer room. In that moment, I knew He heard. He saw. I was, indeed, weeping His tears. I was allowed a glimpse into the tender heart of Jesus, the One who ever lives to intercede!

He is the One who was slain! And with His blood He purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation! (Rev. 5:9) These tear were from Him. He, the One who sees! Creator Father's tears. Jesus Intercessor's tears. Holy Spirit's groan-tears.

I knew in that moment. He does see that mother and her child in that hidden place. He does see that girl lost, scared, and confused. He does see and love exceedingly more than I do.

So I wept today. And, I hope it won't be the last time. It was a gift. It was a moment too painful and too sweet for words. ...but, still, I write about it and offer it here for His glory, because it was from Him! The gift of tears and a wet map.
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