I remember the days when four of our children were small and there was no alone time, or very little of it...(Between the years of 1995 and 2000 we had four children). What brought that memory back this morning? My four year old demanding that she enters the bathroom with me first thing in the morning. Why is it important? Because as all of it was happening I began to feel in my heart the remembrance of how that all felt.
As I continued about that which I needed to do, in the presence of a 4 year old, literally a world map came before my eyes. My four year and the Lord wanted my attention. Then I laughed because way back then the bathroom was truly one of the only places I had time to hear from Him.
And now I'm sitting back on my bed and weeping because of all that filled my heart.
His heart beat began to bring forth pictures of women and men all over the world, children all over the world and I could hear the intercession that was going forward. At times I know to get really specific about my story because well, there are things that are rarely said that need to be shared in the hope that others will do the same. This morning was different. This morning was think about their stories.
The stories that want to weigh down upon their owners and scream that there is no hope... And whether it is a story of one whose face will never be known or seen or it is the story of one in prominent places the answer is actually the same. This morning as privacy was far from anything on the menu, all I could think about was how nobody would ever have thought my life would be where it is and there weren't many people who would have even had hope for the vision, especially me.
Matter of fact, I wouldn't have had hope or faith for a vision if it had been spoken to me way back when that I would be walking where I am walking these days.
So "think of their stories..." it isn't just for those that are poor and homeless and destitute. This morning wasn't just for those whose stories are full of abuse, neglect and horror. This morning wasn't about anyone person nor did it exclude anybody.
This morning I could picture all of those that stand in a corner somewhere, sit on a bed somewhere, stand upon a stage somewhere... this morning the pictures that filled my head where everything from a child upon a garbage dump in India to a man standing upon a stage talking to thousands.
This morning it was as if the Father was lifting my chin to look into His eyes and spoke, "Think of their stories." You see it wasn't even fully about "their stories," "my story," or anybody's stories, then I got in deeper than I even thought the conversation was going to go.... It was about His story.
It is about His story, His heart, His eyes...... And the desire He has that all would be seen. Do the destitute need to be seen? Absolutely! But not any more or any less than the ones you would think are already seen. People can stand in the crowd of one thousand admirers and be so very alone and not seen. I'm not talking about honor here... I'm talking about seen. I understand that the bible shakes up the notion of where the "honor" lies... (1 Corinthians 12)
Be no respecter of persons is falling upon my heart in all sorts of ways these days. To have eyes to see those that nobody sees and that everyone sees as the Lord would see... to not see them as what their placement or situation in life would try to dictate but only as what the Father would declare.
And that is the hope for all... that placement and circumstance doesn't get to dictate or determine worth and value. That the placement of a king doesn't dictate or determine his value any more or any less than the pauper... All will bow a knee and all will confess the same thing at the end of the age.
But do all live their life with the understanding that no matter what they are "son" or "daughter" and that their worth and value has already been established more firmly than they could ever even imagine. The declaration of the Creator of all things, the Lord of lords and the King of kings does... the one who sees the devastated and the one who sees the kings.
I'm not the girl locked behind the doors of a psych hospital.... I'm the one soaring towards the Heavens, embraced by the Father's affections... confident of His love... Basking in the truths that He sees me and knows me and whether I am sitting down or coming in or going out. Whether I am playing dolls with Elizabeth, filling out college forms for Josh, or praying for the sick or lonely, or speaking in front of a crowd. I am seen and I am known and He has great plans for me, a future and a hope.. He always did. He always does... that is just the kind of Father He really is!
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