Today at the young adult’s group, all my favorite ladies surrounded me in a prayer cocoon. My Sister prayed for safe travels and that my heart would be open to being changed.
This is my prayer as well.
Lately, my actions have caused a drift to come between me and God. Because of this, my heart has become harder, less willing to listen, less willing to change and repent, a muscle made of broken bricks. But thank God for God. He convicts me when I don’t want it and makes me joyful when I simply refuse. So, this morning over a bowl of store brand Cinnamon Crunchies, I prayed for God to soften my stubborn heart, turn me from evil, and restore my broken relationship with Him. And ya know what? He did. Because He’s God and He’s just awesome like that.
With a renewed sense of awe and wonder, feeling especially light and free, I picked up Deuteronomy where I left off. I read about Moses’ death. Even though he wouldn’t get into the Promised Land because he struck a rock against God’s command, Moses’ “eye was undimmed, and his vigor unabated” (Deut. 34:7). He died with life still in him, kicking ‘til his last breath. That’s where I want to be.
I believe he died this way because of what God said in chapter 33: “The beloved of the Lord dwells in safety, The High God surrounds him all day long, and dwells between his shoulders.” Moses dwelt in safety, but he also dwelt somewhere else: “The eternal God is your dwelling place.” Moses died with life still in him because he lived in the eternal God, the Giver of Life, living in safety…because being safe is knowing your salvation is solid in Christ.
I said goodbye to the beautiful ladies from bible study today. After developing these friendships, it will be difficult to go six weeks without hanging out with them, musing over God’s miracles in our lives, praising and encouraging one another, and trying desperately to kill the “old man” (yeah, I said it).
Tomorrow comes with a full range of To Do’s. I made my list and now simply have to check each item off one by one as I run around tomorrow. I just realized I did not put “packing” on my list. Well, I guess that’s one thing I don’t think I’ll forget.
Three days until my feet touch Kenyan soil, my nose smells Kenyan garbage, and my lips taste Kenyan Typhoid. Mmmm. Oh, and three days until I get to squeeze my mom and dad and blubber my joyful tears all over them.
It’s the final countdown!