Tonight I feel like jumping feet first into some film playing on the wide screen of darkblue plastered over us this evening. I'm watching through my window past the clouds as it turns from blue to grey to black within the inch-wide openings between my blinds. I reach for a piece of chocolate and lay it on my tongue, I let it melt against the roof of my mouth and nibble on the crunchy caramel it has hidden inside. I lay my head back and reminisce over a dream I had the night before.
It was about a man, a fisherman I think, raised in a time long before now. He was asked by God to perform an act but because of his fear and rebellion he denied God's request. The conviction fell over him, heavy like a brick and itchy like wool. God raised up a bible in the mans hands and led him in reading scriptures. The man began to weap as he followed the Lord's finger across the page. The passage he read said if he were to follow God's commands he would recieve great blessings, many in the form of his family's salvation. It was then that I remembered his family just as he did. They proclaimed Christianity but were not living for God; and the man wept harder as he remembered. The word that came jumping from the page in almost every line was the word radical. His family would be radical for God if he would only listen. I then opened my eyes, no longer looking through his, but rather at my gold colored pillow below me. The subject of my family being saved has been one on my heart for a while now and I think it's long over do.
Lord I will follow your commands, I will listen to your word, I will share your Gospel, I will be your humble and loyal servant.
I will follow the examples of men like Ebed-Melech and be guided by the light of the Lord.