i hear His spirit today. i feel the wind of His spirit. i feel its movement.
i’m familiar with his voice. i know when i hear it.
i see a reoccurring picture of a house. and i see the wind blowing up against the house. but all the windows and doors are shut.
the weather is beautiful. and the house, stuffy.
and i wonder if even the windows were to be opened, if the wind could move freely through the house.
perhaps there is so much junk that is hoarded into heaps that the wind could not possible run its free course.
i think of what it looks like to make room for the Spirit in my life.
and how there are practical answers. reading the bible, opening my heart to prayer, constant communion.
maybe that would look like opening the windows.
but what about all the junk piled to the ceiling? what about all the stuff i’ve hoarded in my heart?
i think about my fear of not having a successful vocation. i think about my unruly obsession with my appearance at times. i think about my hatred of working as much as i do. i think about my greed. i think about our finances. i think about how i can’t seem to say no to sugar. i think about all the time i devote to making my house look beautiful on the inside…
all at the expense of posturing myself before God in complete surrender.
i’m becoming more familiar with my covenant relationship with God. in that covenant he has promised to give me
all that he is.
i pray to God and i sincerely pray for all that he is. but somewhere i have forgotten that the covenant relationship is all the he is for…
all that i am.
and i see that i am the house with its windows shut. i have junk piled up to the ceiling.
there has been a constant assault from some nameless dark creature that tells me
but God tells me that if i surrender what i have hoarded than i won’t lack anything.
there are tears in my eyes because this lie is real in my life. the lie has gripped me.
i remember vividly a few weeks ago out on my swing in the backyard hearing the heart of Jesus.
i remember feeling the anguish he felt in response to this lie that attacks my life.
how he hated it. how he hated that i felt like i was lacking.
i’m also reminded of a garden.
and a lie that spoke deep into the heart of eve. the lie that made her question who she was and what she had. the lie that provoked her to believe for a split second that she was in some way lacking.
i’m moved with hatred towards the lie now.
“you are lacking.”
i can’t resist flipping back to genesis and reading how God questioned adam and eve.
“who told you, you were naked?”
who made you feel exposed and unsafe?
only an enemy would have done this.
and so i sit on my swing again. i’m hearing his voice. i know surely this is him.
you are not lacking loved one.
this is the truth that i hear whispering in my ear. the truth that draws me to my knees and causes my eyes to well up in tears. the truth that’s beginning to take root in my heart. and how freeing it is to believe that and know deeply that i can afford to lay down all that i am for all that he is.
this is where abundance is.
in the complete surrender of who i am and what i have.
and as i take this posture before the Lord it doesn’t feel like sacrifice.
only a sweet coming home.