Dear ones. This has been a week of tears—not the hormonal kind..but the “prayerful” kind.
Without telling you what God showed my heart and mind—know this: He will reveal things to you when you “box” yourself in with Him—every—single—time.
I read an account of William Seymour from the book “They Told Me Their Stories”, by Tommy Welchel and according to several eye witness accounts, William Seymour put a box on his head—as directed by God—which may have seemed ridiculous to many—but the effects of his action of obedience—was an outpouring of the Holy Spirit and anointing on that man as never before experienced since (my opinion) the message preached on the Day of Pentecost, by Peter himself! Acts 2:1-47.
I sought Him—He showed up. No, God didn’t tell me to put a box on my head—but He did require me to sit still—leaning hard into His presence—He was here. In my house.
Some of the tears that fell this week were prayers for those suffering such tragedies as the onslaught of the weather persisted in ripping apart lives across our Nation.
As Jeff explained all the details of the trip to Rainbow City, Alabama, so hard hit by those tornadoes in April, I sat amazed at all the pictures.
Pictured here is a group of men from California, who flew in, purchased all the tools they needed to work, rented a couple of vans and was directed to the sites to work. They gave all they had in the work—and then gave all they had purchased when they left. They gathered around the homeowner to pray before they left. Did they know them? No. Did they have to know them to help them? No.
Two accounts specifically touched my heart. One was a father who held onto his son as he was being sucked out of the sunroof of the car they were riding in. As they saw and felt the tornado, the son began to recite scriptures—over and over. All those he had learned all his life—and then he was gone. Right out of his dad’s arms. (From the Joplin tornado)
The other account was one that Jeff relayed when he returned from Rainbow City, AL. He showed me the picture of the site where the house “was”. The older couple had been in their living room—praying because of the storm—and then all of a sudden she was sucked out of the house when it erupted and thrown over 200 yards and died. The house, or what was left of it fell on him—yet he is alive.
Why did these tragedies and all the others take place? I have no answers for these—yet I must say this: Tragedies come to all. It doesn’t pick and choose by age, sex, race or religious affiliation. It’s part of life.
What matters is what we do with such events. Do we curse and blame God? Or do we reach out to help those in need? Friend, if such event strikes my life—and I am sucked from this world to the one waiting—I pray that I am quoting the Word of God on my way up—or having a conversation with my Father in the moments before.
If it takes it, I will put a box on my head to make sure I am where I need to be in Him—daily. I’ve never been more serious about His Work—His Call—and His Word.
If it takes a box—friend, don’t wait a day longer to get connected with Him.
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