day three
You Are
And they are free from materialism. They laugh at 9-5 little prisons. They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday. They wouldn't even notice. They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the West was won. They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations. They need no passport. People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence. They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying. taken from the vision in the book, Red Moon Rising
8:30 a.m. Tuesday
"Uh-oh," says the clerk at the Tiger Exxon Mart at Oltorf and I35, ringing up my purchases of saltines, apple juice and pepto bismal. "I hope whoever is sick will feel better."
"Thanks," I say, "I will." These are going to be my basic food groups today. Bless it and Kill it is my simple prayer. Bless it (my body) and Kill it (whatever it is that's making me sick). I smile at the clerk. One thing I've been praying is to be in love with the people of Austin like God is. It's easy to love this city for it's beauty, all it has to offer in a worldly way. But as Solomon said, there is nothing new under the sun, and I want to be interested in what God is interested in.
"God, I know you have something good today for me to do, " I say outloud as I head to Imagine Art. I'm singing "God of This City" as I drive down E. 12th. I watch a young student cross the street in front of my car, walking to school with a camoflauge backpack and I pray God takes him if He hasn't already and uses him in this neighborhood.
Debbie and David arrive at the same time as I do at the little house on the corner of Poquito and 12th. Debbie is the Artistic Director, David the Executive Director. I'm so grateful for my new job there, for the chance to be on the eastside 3 days a week. To laugh, to pray, and do some officework. To befriend the disabled artists who are quickly stealing my heart.
We gather to pray as we do every morning and an artist joins us who God is doing major heart surgery on. Her life has been a rough road, and she's currently coming off a drug to help her quit smoking. She is a diamond in the rough, and someone we believe has been called to do ministry among these other artists. She is shaking and complaining of being psychotic, hallucinating in the last few days. Her legs are in constant motion. Yet there is a gentleness in her spirit now that can only be described as Jesus.
As we pray and lay hands on her, I feel my stomach cramping up again, yet I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. We are asking God for more of His Spirit, for a breakthrough in her restlessness. I feel a ray of light through the window fall upon us, as the sun moves out from behind a cloud. Suddenly I see a field of vivid yellow flowers in my mind's eye.
As we finish praying, she says "that's the stillest I've been in two weeks." We all smile and I know God's heart is glad. I tell her about the field I saw and ask her if it means anything to her. "Yes," she smiles, "Van Gogh is my favorite artist and my favorite pictures are Starry Night with the bright yellow stars and the one he did of the sunflowers." She's wiping tears from her eyes. We pray joy for her.
Those who sow in tears
Shall reap in joy.
He who continually goes forth weeping,
Bearing seed for sowing,
Shall doubtless come again with
rejoicing,
Bringing his sheaves with him.
Psalm 126: 5,6 (nkjv)
O Israel, hope in the LORD;
For with the LORD there is mercy,
And with Him is abundant
redemption.
Psalm 130: 7 (nkjv)
And they are free from materialism. They laugh at 9-5 little prisons. They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday. They wouldn't even notice. They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the West was won. They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations. They need no passport. People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence. They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying. taken from the vision in the book, Red Moon Rising
8:30 a.m. Tuesday
"Uh-oh," says the clerk at the Tiger Exxon Mart at Oltorf and I35, ringing up my purchases of saltines, apple juice and pepto bismal. "I hope whoever is sick will feel better."
"Thanks," I say, "I will." These are going to be my basic food groups today. Bless it and Kill it is my simple prayer. Bless it (my body) and Kill it (whatever it is that's making me sick). I smile at the clerk. One thing I've been praying is to be in love with the people of Austin like God is. It's easy to love this city for it's beauty, all it has to offer in a worldly way. But as Solomon said, there is nothing new under the sun, and I want to be interested in what God is interested in.
"God, I know you have something good today for me to do, " I say outloud as I head to Imagine Art. I'm singing "God of This City" as I drive down E. 12th. I watch a young student cross the street in front of my car, walking to school with a camoflauge backpack and I pray God takes him if He hasn't already and uses him in this neighborhood.
Debbie and David arrive at the same time as I do at the little house on the corner of Poquito and 12th. Debbie is the Artistic Director, David the Executive Director. I'm so grateful for my new job there, for the chance to be on the eastside 3 days a week. To laugh, to pray, and do some officework. To befriend the disabled artists who are quickly stealing my heart.
We gather to pray as we do every morning and an artist joins us who God is doing major heart surgery on. Her life has been a rough road, and she's currently coming off a drug to help her quit smoking. She is a diamond in the rough, and someone we believe has been called to do ministry among these other artists. She is shaking and complaining of being psychotic, hallucinating in the last few days. Her legs are in constant motion. Yet there is a gentleness in her spirit now that can only be described as Jesus.
As we pray and lay hands on her, I feel my stomach cramping up again, yet I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. We are asking God for more of His Spirit, for a breakthrough in her restlessness. I feel a ray of light through the window fall upon us, as the sun moves out from behind a cloud. Suddenly I see a field of vivid yellow flowers in my mind's eye.
As we finish praying, she says "that's the stillest I've been in two weeks." We all smile and I know God's heart is glad. I tell her about the field I saw and ask her if it means anything to her. "Yes," she smiles, "Van Gogh is my favorite artist and my favorite pictures are Starry Night with the bright yellow stars and the one he did of the sunflowers." She's wiping tears from her eyes. We pray joy for her.
Those who sow in tears
Shall reap in joy.
He who continually goes forth weeping,
Bearing seed for sowing,
Shall doubtless come again with
rejoicing,
Bringing his sheaves with him.
Psalm 126: 5,6 (nkjv)
O Israel, hope in the LORD;
For with the LORD there is mercy,
And with Him is abundant
redemption.
Psalm 130: 7 (nkjv)