June 29, 2008

From: Gary West
Sent: Sunday, June 29, 2008 7:32 AM
Subject: Sun morn 6/29

I awake to the quivering body of a crying wife.
The morning started an hour earlier (4:00am) when the wave and
loneliness of predawn woke me.
The stillness and darkness amplify the emptiness that we feel. We
lay still for a minute then I begin to pray out loud.
Not so God can hear, but so she can hear. God is so close at
times. At others he is seemingly far away.
This morning he seems busy in another part of the universe. The
house is empty, it is a reflection of our lives.
I pray "Lord, I love you. I need you, we need you. I need you to
help with this pain, this terrible missing, I love you regardless but I
need your comfort. I do not understand, I can't stop the pain. I can't
fix what is wrong with me. I will need your assurance that everything is
ok. That you are still there. I need you. Only you. I ask that you send
Angels to guard us and set the Spirit as our defender. I ask that Satan
and any evil be bound up away from us. You say what ever we bind in
heaven will be bound on earth. I ask that you honor your word and bind
these dark thoughts.
Lord, I also ask that you lead, guide and direct me. That the doors
I would pass through be flung open, where no one can close them. I also
ask that the doors I am not to pass be nailed shut.
I ask you to provide peace and protection to my family, including
Jessica, Kim, Chris and Jenna.
Lord, I believe, I trust, I ask all this is the name of Jesus."
I get up, go find a truck that is stolen and cry off and on all
morning. Crying is not surrender. It is not feminine. It is not softness
or lameness. It is the prelude to prayer that is deeper. It is the
prelude to tongues. It is the broken hearted, the downtrodden that He
came for. It is me. I always wondered what it meant " the greatest will
be least and the least greatest"
I think that is our percentage gauge of our spirit vs. His spirit.
The bigger and stronger that our spirit is...the more room it requires.
When we are broken and so very, very small. When we seem so
insignificant. Then we leave plenty of room for Him. He can fill up and
occupy a larger space. He can dominate and we can be used.
I want to purge myself of myself. To give Him a clean board, to
give His space to Him. I am broken forever. I am not fixable. Only He
can remold the clay of my life. I am cast down and shattered.
My voice and mind do not seem familiar, they are different. They
have the scratches of pain embedded deep within. God has work to do in
me. Can I be fixed? Can I run, can I function, does He have a plan.
I push toward the shore.