I could feel the chilly air of Mongolia creeping in on me as I went in and out of sleep. It was another morning of fighting off sleep in the dark inside of the Mongolian yurt.
I felt the grip of temptation, Lust was knocking at my door. It seems that this early morning state is when I am most vulnerable, it also seems I am not the only one aware of this…
I felt my mind slip away into the fantasy the enemy had prepared for my downfall. An almost realistic vision including a girl I once knew. I felt my mind submerge in the fantasy provided, and heard the approval of my flesh.
Suddenly I heard something in me say “NO!” Distant and muffled, but oh so real all at the same time. The war was on, my spirit was struggling to master my flesh and vice versa. The objections of my spirit grew stronger, defending agent my fleshly desires. As my spirit gained more strength it played it’s winning trump card: “Father! Help me! Cover these thought in the blood of Christ!”
I felt my mind surface from the struggle and retreat from the sin induced coma-like state, all my thoughts restored to clarity and move away from its previous haziness. The battle was over just as fast as it had started.
A memory slipped into the focus of my mind. It was a memory of my friend Chelsea from a few day’s ago. She was sharing a story of when God had spoken to her about her future husband: “This one time on my way home from work, just out of the blue, God started telling me about my future husband, for no reason!” I remember the smile that exploded on her face.
Inspired by this memory I asked The Lord “What is my future wife like?” It came slowly, gently, a feeling of warmth spreading over my whole body. God was pleased with me, pleased that I picked Him, to have a pure thought of His gifts vs the fleeting pleasures of Lust.
I asked again “What is my future wife like?” The warmth spread over my body once more, then I saw a vision. It was a name, a woman’s name, but it left as fast as it had come, leaving in it’s wake a feeling of joy. Over the next few days I attempted to recall this name may times only to no avail. Every time I try to think of this name, even though I can’t put my finger on it, I still feel joy in memory of my Father’s touch.
