How They Sing for Him

The dawn breaks as the birds begin their song. The woman beats her rug. The man rakes his leaves. The child scuttles down the street. Around me is hear a myrad of sounds: horns blowing, engines whispering, people shouting, and I am listening. The city has awoken.

This is the way my days have begun for the last three weeks. I will miss it. To all who prayed for us thank you so much. You have been heard. We have welcomed a brother into the family and another is on his way. Many more have heard. The seed has been planted and I ask that God would make it grow. I ask for the workers who will water it. For those who are still here, and for those who are still to come. I ask for those who do not yet believe, and for those who do and are suffering for it.

One of the lessons that I will take with me is how precious worship is. In a place where it is forbidden I cherish every moment of it. I often find myself singing in the streets and the tears just begin to flow. I cry tears of joy to be found in the arms of the one who calls himself the I Am. I cry for all those who do not know Him, or who have rejected Him. I cry for the Honor and Glory that is being stolen from Him. He has become my song.

Being a leader has been an interesting venture. One my mentors told me before I left "A true leader is one who people are willing to follow because they contain the characteristics they themselves want to have." I just ask God that He make me into this person, because contrary to popular belief I am not this person.This is not false humilty, but truth. But, through Him I can be. I need to go... Please continue to pray because we are not yet home, and the work is not yet done.