It would be so inaccurate to consider yourself not valuable to the Kingdom work. For you and I are His hands and feet. If we carry the Lord within us….how then can we take lightly our role in His plan. The gifts in you are significant..not accidental..they were placed there to reach people for Christ. We are many things in His eyes and in the daily love we show others. We are royal heirs, warriors, daughters, birds in His flock, wolves in a pack ( in a good sense), we were the Father’s gift to Christ..and we carry the precious treasure of Him within us. To the world we ought to be carrying the wind of His spirit pointing them to Jesus. We should shine love and light…as He radiates through us. We are so imperfect, yet He chooses to use us. We are weak..oh very…in our flesh..but when God moves in…well we are strong in HIM! We are entering a time now where we must learn to walk in the light of who Christ is within us! His fullness..His compassion..His authority..His gentleness..
He wants to speak through us, use us….He wants us to see with His eyes, and hear with His ears. He wants us to discern through what is seen..He wants us as sharp arrows sent to His targets to win souls for Him and encourage our brothers and sisters to endure the fight! He knows our frailties, our weaknesses, He knows our afflictions…yet He is still residing in us. As we draw near to Him..He draws near to us. As we sit and listen..He speaks. We carry the very fire that ignites souls, awakens sleepers, stirs up gifts and hope in others. We ought to be burning long! The spark ought to cause heads to turn and hearts to yearn for what we have…for WHO we have! So take your place friends…God needs us now….as David Wilkerson has said…”Christ can not spare any of His ministers now….everyone is needed.” We must now go spark a forest fire that burns for Christ.
Born again as His warrior
Yet a daughter of His.
With needs deep as water
For He knows the very long list..
Although I am strong
Yet still I am weak.
And though I know Him
Oh, Still I must seek.
A King’s kid am I
Of royal decent.
A diamond cut rough
A pearl in pain’s sift.
His stream in the desert
With life giving flow.
His human clay vessel
That He must still mold.
A work still in progress
Yet new …not the old.
A Shepherd of pastures
For mending the fold.
An ant in His work force
Linked to His crew.
A wolf in His pack
In the laborers of few.
A bird in His flock
Building His nest.
Ready to fly
Through storms that will test.
The feet and the hands
Of the blood riddled lamb.
A Temple of His
Now sent to heal man.
The Love of Himself
Clothed in but flesh.
A gift carrying Him
For a world needing rest.
A light in the darkness
That stores up His oil.
His flickering flame
That warms those in cold.
The fire that does spark
A forest to burn.
The wind that does blow
With His Spirit’s turn.
His arrow so sharp
And pointed to mark.
Aimed at a target
To tend now a heart.
His flower that’s blooming
His seed planted deep.
His drops of the rainfall
To tend those who weep.
A voice in the wilderness
Preparing the way.
Calling His people
To Arise to their Place.
MAY 20, 2016
