8.13.2010

Thy Rod and Thy Staff, They Comfort

Dream last night:

In my dream, I was propped up on some pillows in my bed, annoyed, because I could not fall asleep and I really needed it. The reason for this is that the IHOP–KC nightwatch was in my room, singing and playing just as if it were a normal set in the prayer room. As the team transitioned out so that another could replace them, the worship leader patted me on the shoulder and said, "Thanks for being so faithful in the place of prayer." This was even more irritating, because then I felt guilty for being irritated in the first place for not being able to sleep while prayer was going on.

I didn't get it in the dream, but I did when I woke up! Oh, how good it is to have the Lord's triple-whammy correction:

1. I make a distinction in my mind between prayer room time and alone time.

I am so grateful for the prayer room. I am so grateful to have a place where everything around me is enticing me and pushing me forward to press into God—into love, adoration, praise of the worthy one. I love it in there, and I can enter into true worship there. My heart comes alive in worship and prayer. But most of the time, the Lord encounters me in a deeper, more direct way in the secret place.

The problem is that in the prayer room, I'm reminded to press in. In the secret place, I'm not, and I don't press myself to remember (I don't really press myself to remember much of anything). We are supposed to "pray at all times." But I have a hard time engaging when I'm alone. Why? Because...

2. I don't fully believe that He's always with me.

When I'm alone, I don't consciously remember His nearness. I drift off in my mind—not that it's wrong to drift off . . . but I need greater revelation of how He never leaves; He never, ever, ever leaves. I was irritated in my dream because the two spheres of my life were colliding and disrupting my "me-time." But there is no me-time. There's me-and-Him-time, me-and-Him-and-others-time, and nothing else.

I want real understanding of the reality of our communion on a consistent basis.

3. I love sleep.

Woe.

8.10.2010

Trees, Silly

Had a conversation with a close friend concerning the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and how the rule not to eat of the tree caused us to enter into the reign of sin—The idea was that without rules, we cannot sin. (Rom. 5:13)

Of course, this paradox is silly. Without the choice to obey, we can't love, either—which is the entire purpose of our creation.

The fall: They said, "I want to be equal with You. I don't trust you. I don't trust your motives. I don't believe you are good or kind. I don't believe you can lead me as well as I can lead me. I don't want to depend on you. I need to work out a better deal for myself. I won't obey you. I don't love you."

This is death. The choice at the tree of the knowledge of good and evil gave expression to what was already in their hearts. It wasn't a mean God, tempting and making extraneous rules for a couple of people who deserved better.

The tree provided opportunity to choose obedience instead of self; to choose to love God. If we love Him, we obey Him.

We were created to love Him. We cannot be satisfied until we enter into that great exchange of love—and we cannot love without denying ourselves—we can't love Him without the choice.

The rule concerning the tree was a gift, a beautiful opportunity; it was free will, it was the choice.