dream with Me, daughter
Last night, I sat at house fellowship and could not stop crying. Which isn’t at all unusual, if you know me, but the steady stream of tears caught me off guard because my words seemed to fall so short of how I was feeling. I couldn’t seem to say more than a few words for h o u r s. I was so weary, so tired, so… broken . But as the tears kept coming, God wasn’t the only one noticing. Another friend was watching, and He was stirring something in her to speak to me. So she came over to me as we worshiped, sat down next to me, and spoke. I just felt like God wanted me to share this psalm with you. It’s psalm 126; can I read it to you? I nodded and stared at her Bible as she read, every phrase underlined, as a standout reminder of its truth. My tears grew stronger as I heard the familiar words, words I’ve claimed over and over again, words I’ve pleaded with the Father many times over the past six months of being here. In the Message, its climax says, “And now, God, do it again—“ ...