Things Unseen

Now, I am sitting in my living room, windows open, gazing out at the nightlife that surrounds. It's a simple, quiet life tonight for the locals. I hear a few cars whizzing by, kids playing in the streets.. (side note: Wow.. it makes my heart giddy to hear kids playing, at all times). And me, I am here with Phil Wickham on my computer battling the call to prayer for my ears' attention (and an empty coffee mug at my side). Typical evening.

Yesterday I wandered around town with two others here with me. We stumbled across a run-down, forgotten building that seems to be screaming the same thing as the locals here.

Notice me.

Care for me.

Instead, barbed wire surrounds its windows and the building is empty, hollow. The perimeter is one of little to no invitation as it is amidst a bed of thorns. Dry, dry thorns that attack with brutality. This, I feel, is a representation of the lives of those I am to teach.

My kids need the wellspring of life... for their souls are dry.

Lord, please use me for this.

Praying for wisdom, discernment, and an overgrown heart.