Posted in Journal, Prayer

Night Time


One teenage girl asked for access to one of our facilities so she can pray. At this late hour, we usually do not allow it. But I knew how precious a moment such as this could be for a young lady yearning for a time with God. I subtly influenced our acting manager to concede to the request. She entered the room, was left there by our staff and minutes later was heard crying.

“She must have a huge problem,” one of our staff said. “Well, maybe. Or maybe she’s just ‘praying,'” I said.

Tonight, I’m reminded of those nights when I was in that young lady’s place… Well, it doesn’t matter if it’s a problem she’s “crying over” or if it’s her “intercession” for a burden that came from God. It is God’s wooing and our ‘responding’ and our weeping and our longing that changes atmospheres and changes lives. I remember the many times my life had been irrevocably altered because of nights like these — just me and God, meeting to change destinies.

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Author:

broken. humbled. a life that's ruined for a cause. a jesus revolutionary.

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