Words.
There aren't any.
The race has begun.
Fist stop: Andhra Pradesh.
Population: 85 million.
What am I doing here?
It's a question I ask frequently.
Oh, I know!
To heal people.
To raise people from the dead.
To set the captives free.
And I wanna start now!
It's a dead sprint out of the starting gate.
I press forward, full blast.
I expect the Lord to heal people.
Come on Jesus, let's go!
"Wait.. Jesus, what are you doing?
Can't you see we've got a race to run?
Why do you not keep up with me?"
"Because it is I who sets the pace, not you."
I pause for long enough to realize
that I am out of breathe
and will not be able to continue.
I did not wait for teaching.
I did not wait for wisdom.
I did not wait for Jesus.
the breath of hope-
and now I can't breathe.
I came out of the starting gate guns blazing.
And while that isn't necessarily a bad thing,
the problem came when I placed my own expectations
on what I wantd the glory of the Lord to look like.
I know Jesus is the Healer,
and so that became my agenda.
Let's go out and heal people.
That's what Jesus wants, right?
As if the God of the universe
can only be glorified through healing.
Yes.
Jesus does want to heal people,
but it may not look like what I expect.
Expecially if that's all I'm focused on
Instead of constantly pursuing my God
and what He wants.
I will continue to speak life and healing over people,
but I refuse to let my expectations get in the way.
It's been extremely humbling
and quite frankly pretty tough.
It's hard to die daily.
But death to myself means life abundant from God.
And THAT is the best place to be.
