Brothers.

There is probably nothing and no one on this earth that has caused my heart more joy, more tears, more excitement, and more anguish over the years than brothers. I'm not just talking about the two I'm related to, although they are definitely at the top of that list, as they're the ones I am most tied to and thankful for. But I'm also talking about quite a few guys in my life--some of whom are my true brothers in Christ, and some of whom I have for years prayed and longed to see become that. I have brothers I know personally, and brothers I more know of (a group which stretches to include some music artists whom I feel connected to in part because of their music). But for me, on a certain level, they are all, undeniably, my brothers. I care about them on a deep level, and want to see them become all they can be, all they were created to be.

God has abundantly blessed me with many awesome brothers in Christ over the past few years--men whom I'd trust with my life and who can make me smile just thinking about them. I count it an honor to be "related" to these guys, to be able to share some portion of my life with them, and to get to know them well enough to pray specifically for what I see the Lord doing in and through them. God is building some incredible men after His heart in this generation; I can vouch for that.

As for my two younger brothers (who are stuck with me 'til they die or I do), I may never have words for how deeply I love them nor how fiercely I desire to see them become the men God has called them to be. My life and my sister's would have been dull, ugly, and pretty glum without our two youngest siblings and their laughs and adventures, and even their snide remarks about being taller than me. As much as they've aggravated or frustrated me at various points over the years, they have helped shape me in ways nobody else could, and I count it among my richest joys to be their sister. Greater things are yet to come in both my brothers' lives, and I cannot wait to see it all unfold.

There are also guys I've either grown up with or come to know at some point along the way, whom I've specifically felt called to pray for. I don't believe God puts anyone on your heart for no reason. Because of that, my heart will continue to cry out for them to see Him, to know Him, to yield up their lives and find that real life begins at that point of surrender, that the plans God has for them are so much bigger and greater and harder and infinitely more worthwhile than anything anyone but Him could ever dream up. I can't pretend my heart doesn't often break when I see or think of these guys, whom in my book are still brothers though they may be distant from our Father; but beyond the pain of hurting for where they're at, I see hope. I see potential, because I know God didn't put them on this earth for nothing, any more than He laid them on my heart for no reason.

I fight for my brothers. I don't just pray for them soft and sweet. Sure, maybe I do at times, but for the most part, when I'm praying for any of my brothers, there's this sort of growl that rises up inside my soul. It's often a battle, a pleading with the One who is stronger to overthrow the attempts of enemy forces to thwart His plans for my brothers' lives, a blatant defiance towards the lies that either say there's no hope or that the place they're at is "good enough" when God's still got bigger plans for them.

Because no matter how far any of my brothers have come, the fact they're still breathing means their purpose on this earth is not finished yet. I've been blessed to the point of awe to see God answer prayers that asked Him to do more than I knew to ask in brothers' lives. There are deeper and greater and harder and more glorious things ahead.

So bros, whether I've tossed a football or a frisbee with you, played tag or "dogs" or Jedis or Nintendo with you when we were younger, worked with you, or just talked with you; whether I've known you for a month or a decade (or more)...chances are, I've prayed for you (for the vast majority of you, it's been too many times to count). And it's not that I don't pray for my sisters; but there's something that kicks into gear when it comes to praying for my brothers that's incredibly hard to describe. I want to see each of you become all you can be, but even as you are every single one of you has blessed my life in one way or another.

So run hard. Love deeply. Surrender recklessly. Look up.
God's plans for you are better than I can know, but I'll keep looking for glimpses of them. And I won't stop praying for you.

Rak khazak!
-Kala

Notes on Music, Part 2: What Prayer Has to Do with It

I feel like I'm more or less stumbling through this series on music and worship. Despite my attempts to plan out the order of what to bring up when and how to arrange the topics of all that's been welling up within me and germinating for so long, it seems I just have to take things one step at a time and let it build upon itself as I go. Left to myself, I'd be prone to wander off and leave it unfinished, but God's not letting me off the hook with this one, and He keeps pressing things on my heart which inevitably force themselves out through typed words on a screen.

Words like prayer. 

I don't know what connotation that word has for you, but for me it pulls at the corners of my eyes and mouth as it stirs up memories of thousands of moments over the past few years of my life in which God has drastically altered and deepened my perspective on what prayer is, where its purpose lies, and why it's important. It's been a journey (one I'm more than a little certain is still far from over). Among all those moments that trace it are sprinkled tears...laughter...fear...joy...anguish...wonder...trust...timid faith...surrender...confidence...uncertainty...desperation...expectancy...awe...and triumph (and probably a lot more descriptors/emotions, but you get the idea). 

So what is prayer? The simplest definition is that it's a conversation. And I know I can't be the only one who's ever convinced myself with my flawed reasoning that there's no need to pray because God already knows what you're thinking, what you've done, and what will happen. It's true, He's all-knowing and fully aware of all that (so often much more aware than we even are). So maybe some other terminology will help clarify: prayer is communion. I know, I know--that's a religious term. But I think it gets to the heart of the matter a little better. See, prayer is more than just words. Sometimes prayer has no words; sometimes it's an internal groaning or longing or a song in your soul that can't even be put into melody. Sometimes it's an expression of things only He can understand. Sometimes it's a plea, sometimes a praise.

Prayer is where your heart, mind, and soul collide with God's. 

 So what does prayer have to do with worship? Everything. Prayer is worship. The point of prayer, ultimately, is worship. Because when your heart is laid bare before the One who made it, when you get a glimpse into His heart for you or for someone else, it results in worship. When you pour your thoughts out to Him and let His Word change the way you think and the way you reason, it inevitably drives you to a deeper adoration of the One whose thoughts will always be higher than yours. When your soul is engaged in His mission on this earth, your will surrendered to His, your eyes watching for His promises to be fulfilled--you experience His greatness on a deeper level, and it produces worship. 

Prayer changes things. I serve a God who is perfectly capable to do absolutely whatever He wants and who doesn't have to include us in any way at all to do it. And yet He chose to let us take part in His work. He didn't have to. He is perfectly able to be God. He's good at it. So good at it that He chose to work in this world in a way that no one but Him would ever have even considered. I mean, seriously, would you give somebody a job to do when you already knew they didn't have the ability to carry it out? Would you hire a preschooler as a college professor? A high-school dropout as a foreign diplomat? A teenage pop singer as a war general? We as people look for the most highly qualified to fill a position. But God takes a position only He can fill--the role of representing Him in this earth--and chooses to use broken, helpless human beings who are utterly incapable of doing anything without Him (He supplies us with the very air we breathe, for crying out loud!). Are we a perfect representation of what He's like? Not even close. Which is how we become an even more perfect demonstration of who He is. 

You see, if I could be perfect by my own willpower or ability or know-how, I wouldn't need to know God, much less depend on Him. If being His representative on this earth meant that I never failed or faltered or in any way fell short of His excellence, nobody would ever see His power, His glory, or His redemption. Because if that were the case, people wouldn't see Him; they'd just see me, being perfect. If I never wronged anyone, no one would be able to glimpse God changing my heart and causing me to come back to them asking forgiveness. If my feelings were never hurt by another's words or actions, no one would see the fingerprint of His forgiveness in my life. If I never failed, no one would see the story of His grace in my life, redeeming my failures and proving God's might in my life as He enables me to overcome. If I never had to wrestle with sin, there would be no victory over it. And if I could walk this life out perfectly all by myself, nobody would ever glimpse the incredible beauty of the Church as one Body made up of many members and parts, working together, forgiving one another, helping each other, serving one another as we all serve Him.

Prayer emphasizes our dependence on God. It reminds our souls of their position: unworthy but loved, helpless but empowered by His Spirit, finite in the presence of the One who is infinite, broken but in the hands of the One who makes all things new. It reminds us Whose we are, draws us to worship, and sets our lives on a trajectory of accomplishing His will in this earth. 

Ever notice how often praying for God to change someone or something around you more often results in Him changing you? In a way that's central to much of what I have to say in upcoming posts. When we hear terms like revival or think of God's intentions for this world, we have a tendency to think in terms of others. We zoom out to a larger scale, of how much better life would be if other people would conform to His will. What we (myself very much included) so often fail to consider is the fact that when it comes down to it, no one really wants to be left on the sidelines as an onlooker while all the action happens, do we? If everyone around you experienced the transforming power of the Gospel in ways that turned their lives upside down in the best possible way and sent them running hard after God, living for His glory...would you want to be on the outside looking in? I know I don't. I want to be in the middle of the action. And that's where all of us--each and every one of us, if you call yourself by His Name--are meant to be.

We get to participate in His plans for this world and how they play out. 

God didn't give you a front-row seat to the big game. He chose you to play on His team. It's not all about you, nor is it meant to be, but you are meant to be a part of it. And that too, should lead us straight into worship of the One whom it is all about. 

Prayer increases faith. When you ask God to do something, you're also placing your dependence on Him. You're placing your trust in His ability to cause everything in your life to work together for your good and His glory in the end. You're placing your hope in His love and faithfulness. You're placing your faith in Him even when you can't wrap your mind around how things could possibly work out. You're submitting your will to His and acknowledging that He knows better than you do how things should go. The more your heart and mind gradually become transformed to look more like His, the more your prayers will start to look like His (yes, God Himself prays for you.). And when you see prayer answered? It leads to worship. 

It feels appropriate to finish this post with a song, yet again. Not sure if this will become a pattern for this series, but this song pretty well sums up the desire and purpose of our hearts being made to look more like our King's:

Ache

Late at night--or is it early morning?--
My head on the pillow, I hear You whisper,
Asking me to forsake sleep, to die to myself,
Come away with You, and share Your heart.

"Will you ache with Me in the watches of the night?
Will you watch with Me for the dark to break to light?
Will you weep for what I'm weeping for,
Reach for those I'm reaching for--
Will you bear My heart tonight?"

I know it's not because You need me.
What's even better is the way You call me,
Inviting me to join You in Your mission for this world,
To walk with You and bear Your heart.

I yearn to ache with You in the watches of the night.
I want to watch with You 'til the darkness breaks to light.
I long to weep for what You're weeping for,
Reach for those You're reaching for--
Let me bear Your heart tonight.

   So I'll walk with You in the watches of the night.
   In the darkest times and seasons, I will look to Your Light.
   Help me welcome inconvenience and trust You with the rest,
   For there's joy that lurks in suffering,
   There is peace within this aching pain,
   When I care for what You care about,
   When I yield to be, myself, poured out
   By following my King.

I will ache with You in the watches of the night.
I will watch with You as the darkness breaks to light.
I will weep for what You're weeping for,
Reach for those You're reaching for--
Help me bear Your heart tonight.

When Writing Becomes an Act of Worship

Two and a half years ago, God asked me to give up something. At the time, I wasn't sure if He meant put it on hold for a while, or actually give it up forever. All I knew was that He was asking me to trust Him and to entrust what had become one of the defining aspects of my life into His hands. This exchange took place early on in the summer of 2010, during my time at Ellerslie LeadershipTraining. I had come to Ellerslie with as clear of an idea for what my future held as I'd had up to that point, with several specific things God had highlighted that I felt He was calling me in. Among those things was writing. And it was special to me. 

See, a few years before that was when, through one comment from my Dad, I first began to realize I had any talent for writing at all. During the remainder of my time in high school, I began to branch out and write more than just school assignments and journal entries. I embarked on writing stories, and about a year before Ellerslie came around, I had written the first draft of a book meant to call my generation to rise up and live out what we say we believe. I felt strongly that God had led me to write it, and reasoned that therefore I was supposed to pursue self-publishing it once I had opportunity, which wasn't likely to happen before my time at Ellerslie was over. In addition to this completed draft, I had several stories in-progress I had been working on.

But then, when I least expected it, God asked me to give it all up. He wanted my gaze on Him, and though at the time I could not understand why He was asking this of me, I knew I needed to trust Him. The summer of 2020 was life-changing for me in more ways than I can probably come close to describing, but in the area of writing it was also pivotal. What I could not see then, when a large part of my identity was wrapped up in "what I could do for God," was that surrender was to be the avenue to something greater than I'd ever dreamed. God was drawing me to a life of worship--of adoration and communion with Him, not just part-time, but constantly. 

Surrender is not a one-time event. It means a constant, repeated act of choosing to yield to another's will. The beauty of true surrender to Christ lies in its continuation and the way God uses it for His glory. 

For me, I went through a season that summer where I literally could not write. It wasn't that I felt I shouldn't; it was that I tried over and over again, and found my attempts clumsy and inadequate. Part of it was that I was encountering things I had no words for, no way to adequately describe. In fact, that was probably a larger part of it than I realized at the time. But the reality, for me, was that for a time my ability was stripped away from me. And during that time, rather than collapsing into hopelessness, I found myself further enraptured by my God, by who He is and what He was doing in and through and around me, and lost sight of me and my own abilities. I became more satisfied in Christ than I had ever been before, and found that He truly was enough, even if everything else in my life was taken away. 

Toward the end of the summer, God surprised me by giving it back. We had an "assignment" of sorts, to write or compose something, some sort of remembrance, of what we had seen God doing during our eleven weeks of Basic Training. And as I sorted through the many things that had taken place in my own soul and those around me during that ridiculously short amount of time (for it seemed like so much longer, considering all that happened), inspiration struck. I found myself writing in a way I never had before, not just with the way I was trying to use an analogy to describe something, but with the sense of worship that accompanied it.

I had prayed during the writing process of that first-draft book I finished the year before, but by now something had changed within my soul. It wasn't just that I enjoyed writing more now that I had walked through a season without it. Something had changed, and suddenly writing became an act of worship. 

Two and a half years later, I am still in the process of discovering what it means for writing to be a form of worship. See, worship isn't just singing songs on a Sunday morning. It's more than a feeling that fades with the situation. Worship is a spiritual posture of surrender and trust and reliance and sweet fellowship with the God who created us to know Him. And it's meant to characterize every aspect of our day-to-day lives. If those in heaven are constantly worshiping the Lord (see Revelation 4:8-11), then "on earth as it is in heaven" (Matthew 6:10) looks the same, doesn't it? "For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be glory forever. Amen. I appeal to you, therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship" (Rom. 11:36-12:1). It's the beautiful, indescribable, joyous surrender and communion with our Creator that we were designed for. 

And recently, quite possibly more than ever before in my life, I have been experiencing times spent writing that are indeed simultaneously times of worship. I'm no longer writing for myself, out of simply a desire to create a story. It's not about trying to write something that will merely entertain people anymore. During a recent car ride on the way home from visiting relatives up North, I typed out just under two-and-a-half pages (which may just turn into a later blog post) about how I now perceive writing and why I write. 

But in the end, it's not about the writing or even what it produces. It's not even about the impact or effect it could have on others. Ultimately, it's about the worship, because that is what I was created for. Not stringing groups of words together on paper so that they make sense or prove some point. Not eloquence or lack thereof. Worship. 

Because we were created to live and thrive in a constant state of worship, of prayer, of communion with God. So "worship" may look different at different times. One moment, it may be singing to the Lord, and the next, it may look like loving the person next to you the way that God loves them. Sometimes it looks like picking up trash, and sometimes it looks like having a conversation with a close friend or a complete stranger. Sometimes it looks like getting alone with God, and sometimes it looks like sharing the Gospel. Sometimes it means painful sacrifice, and sometimes it means crying tears of astonishment when you see what God is doing or has done. Sometimes it looks like being completely still and silent and reflecting on God, or waiting on Him, listening. Simply put, worship means living in the center of God's will, every moment. Seeking Him, seeing Him, knowing Him more with each passing day. Sometimes, it even looks like sleeping--peacefully resting in His promises while you lose consciousness for a time...

And sometimes, it looks like writing.

. . .

Pray Bigger.

God's been bringing something to my attention lately. It's something He's shown me before, only this time He's being even more specific...

He's been showing me I've once again fallen into a habit of looking at the people in the world around me, and focusing on the need rather than the Answer to that need. I've been feeling overwhelmed by the magnitude of what needs to change in so many hearts and lives, if my generation is truly going to see any true, noticeable advancement of the Gospel and the Kingdom of God.

When I started college last Fall, before long I started feeling sort of like Elijah in 1 Kings 19 when he cried out to God saying he was the last of those that followed the LORD in Israel. It wasn't quite that extreme, I knew, because I have been blessed with many brothers and sisters in different parts of the country and the world who are passionately and wholeheartedly pursuing and living for Christ. But at college, I started feeling sort of like part of a dying breed, like I was one of the only people whose heart was broken over certain things I was seeing around me. But just as He did to Elijah, God spoke to me and reminded me of His great power. He told Elijah He still had seven thousand in Israel that had not bowed their knees to Baal, and in much the same way He reminded me of something He gave me a glimpse of a vision for several years ago. He wants to move mightily in my generation. He plans to. Even now, He is raising up saints and soldiers who will surrender their lives to Him and give themselves to advance His Kingdom and glory in this earth. Funny how I can forget that sometimes.

That season of broken-heartedness during my first semester was followed by one of worshipful, deeper discoveries of who God is and how infinitely big He is, how almighty and awesome. This is the God who has pulled off the impossible again and again throughout human history. Is anything too hard for Him?

Yet somehow, as humans we have this tendency at times to let our focus shift from our great God to all the mountains around us that must be moved. We forget Who must move those mountains, and begin to feel very small and incapable, to realize the utter impossibility of the task. But even though God could just pick up those mountains and toss them into the sea with less effort than it takes you or I to blink, He has chosen to work through the people He calls His own, through a very unique tool known as faith. Remember? Jesus said that faith the size of a mustard seed is enough to tell a mountain to move, and it would be moved. Is that a result of our faith--or of the One in whom our faith is placed?

Lately I've been struck by the sheer magnitude of the things that need to be overcome in my city, in America, in the world, and in the Church. I don't know why, but for some reason I've just never realized either the number of people involved or the level of delusion that has overcome so many. And once again, I started to feel like it's pretty impossible to hope for much to change for the better in this world we live in.

But then, God started reminding me of some things again... He brought up some specific memories of times He's very clearly spoken to me, or just filled me with hope and expectancy for things that, apart from Him, truly are impossible. And He aimed a rather pointed question/charge at my heart. He convicted me of not praying big enough. Of limiting my requests to the One who alone is the very Source of all power and grace. Of somehow thinking I could only pray for the small things, or that the small things were big enough.

Several years ago, God challenged me to dream bigger. It came after all my plans for my future had crumbled into dust, and for some time I had been utterly clueless as to what I wanted to be when I grew up, what I was going to do with my life. I had given up the goals I had set for myself for so long, and without them I literally had no clue what my life would look like after high school and college. Before God turned my world upside down, my dreams (in hindsight) were pretty mediocre and dull. I wanted to be a veterinarian, which I might've enjoyed to some extent, and have a husband, kids, pets, a house, etc. All the usual stuff. My idea for my future was puny, insignificant, and hollow. It was successful, perhaps, in the eyes of the world, but it lacked a driving purpose other than doing what I wanted to do in working with animals. I had let that dream go, but didn't know what to replace it with.

And that's when God told me to dream bigger. He challenged me to aim for a life filled with purpose--the very purpose I was created for, to glorify Him. Slowly, He started highlighting some areas He had gifted and called me in--most of them things I had only begun to discover after the old vision had been given up. I still had no clue what it was going to look like; I just knew some of what it would involve.

Now, revisiting that memory and others, God's been asking me if I'm willing to really trust Him to do all the things I have asked Him for--particularly in regards to my city and my generation. And if I focus on the mountains of impossibility, my heart quails and wants to shy away from ever praying the bold prayers I know my King is asking of me. But that's not where my gaze should be.

"Behold, I am the LORD, the God of all flesh: is there any thing too hard for Me?"

-Jeremiah 32:27

"What shall we say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?"

-Romans 8:31

In the words of Han Solo, "Never tell me the odds!" I don't care how impossible it seems to think that God could grip the hearts of an entire generation and change them, move on those hearts in such a way that the world cannot deny He is living and moving and having His being in them. He has given me a commission to pray for that, and I can much sooner bear the thought of asking Him for something this big, than the thought of holding back, of not trusting Him, and of someday realizing that the reason something didn't happen was because nobody had the guts to pray for it. "You have not, because you ask not" (James 4:2b).

"Lord, let us be a generation that seeks,
Seeks Your face, oh God of Jacob."  -Kutless

May we come to the place of faith that C.T. Studd so poignantly described: "We will a thousand times sooner die trusting only our God, than live trusting in man." I'm not claiming that I've reached a point of utter confidence as to what God intends to do in my generation just yet--but I know I need to fight for it. I know I need to pray for greater faith, and to recklessly trust Him to do what only He can. I don't know what it will look like; but I know He is able. And when it comes down to it, that's all I really need to know.

My Hope Is in You.

Revival--Do We Really Desire It?

Well, I'm home for the second day between getting home from Colorado (visiting Ellerslie and some of my dear brothers and sisters in Christ there), and departing again for my youth group's roadtrip to Youth America tomorrow. I should be packing. Or should I? Packing can wait; what God is pressing on my heart cannot. I don't think I can wait another week before I write about it. So, here goes. 

About a month ago, I wrote a song that was inspired both by what God has been teaching me, and by a quote from Keith Green. When I read his biography, No Compromise, a year or two ago, there were several quotes that jumped off the page at me, but there is only one I can remember word-for-word. In his journal one day Keith Green wrote, "Lord, let there be revival and let it begin in me!" 

For years, I have longed to see true revival sweep through my generation, setting them on fire for God and His Kingdom. But at the same time, I was content to remain as I was. In retrospect, if I were now to put into words the cry and attitude of my heart even just about a year ago, it would be something like this:

"Lord, reveal Yourself to my generation and change them! They need You so desperately, and rather than surrendering to You and living as they were created to and glorifying You, they are pursuing vain and pitiful things of this world, leading themselves only to darkness, despair, and destruction. You've brought me to truly know You; now bring them to this place, that they may see how much better their lives could really be when You are the center as You ought to be." Up to this point, this is likely what my verbal prayers would have looked like. But there was another side, a side I was blind to at the time. While crying out for others to know God, my heart was inwardly saying at the same time, "But, God, I'm perfectly content to remain at this spot where I am. I think I've reached the place where I'm ready to do Your work in the areas You've called me to, ministering to my little circle of influence, and if You make a way for it, to a larger audience. But we're good. I've reached the epitome of knowing You, and need go no further. I know I'm called to be kind of "radical" in a way, but not to the same extreme as some of Your followers from times past." I had no longing to know Him more, no desire to be further conformed into His image and to be made strong so that I would have strength to pour out for others. 

And just in the past year or so, God has brought me to my knees on that point. He's shown me that following Him truly means laying everything else at His feet, fully yielding all I am and all I have to give to Him, giving up my preconceived "rights" and allowing Him to have His way in and with my life in every aspect. I've not reached the end of what the Christian life looks like, but merely the beginning. I've only glimpsed a preview of His glory, of His designs for my generation, of His heart, and of all that He truly is. Though it is definitely hard to relinquish everything, it is more than worth it. Why would or should we cling to the filthy pebbles of our own desires, goals, dreams, and comfort, when there are infinite riches to be had in knowing the Creator of the Universe Himself, the Almighty King over all, the Savior, the God Who is with us and Who in His utterly mind-boggling design has made a way where there was no way, for us to know Him (for this is eternal life--John 17:3) and to be part of His plans? Why on earth would we settle for less than the intense beauty and incredible adventure of a life spent with and for Him?! 

Recently, God has been breaking me in a deeper way. He has been humbling me, revealing to me just how hard my heart still is, how much I desperately need Him to change me and to give me a heart that beats in accordance with His. He's been showing me how much I myself am in need of revival within my soul. So what is revival? Once upon a time I thought it meant something like these huge events where speakers rent out a sports stadium and present the Gospel, where the unsaved come to believing faith in their Savior. But that's not it, or perhaps I should say that's not the full definition of the word revival, but merely the beginning of it. Revival is much deeper than praying a dictated prayer. It's more than an emotional decision that may or may not stand the next day or week or month or year. Revival is a condition of soul where an individual beholds the awesome holiness of God, and falls to his face before Him. Revival is a yielding up of body, soul, mind, and spirit to the only One who is worthy of such sacrifice. Revival is when the Holy Spirit of the Living God comes in like a fire and burns away everything of self and sin, igniting the soul of the believer like the burning bush to display the Life of God within. 

Earlier I mentioned a song...Here it is. I pray that God brings you to this same place of yearning for revival, not just in our generation and our world, but within your own soul. For there cannot be true revival if God's people do not allow Him to begin with them. 

Revival Song

What will revival mean if You don't bring it in me?

What joy can anything bring if You're not the One I seek?

Lord, break my heart afresh and keep my eyes on You.

I can't do this on my own, and I know I don't want to.

     So, Lord, let there be revival,

     And, please, begin it in me!

     Jesus, take this heart of stone

     And give me one that beats

     And yearns for You alone.

On these days when I slip into the routine of my life,

Return my gaze to You, and be Lord of my life.

I'm done living ordinary. Lord, transform, use me for Your glory!

'Cause this life is not about me. It was made to be lived for You.

     So, Lord, let there be revival,

     And, please, begin it in me!

     Jesus, take this heart of stone

     And give me one that beats

     And yearns for You alone.

  My life is not my own, for I was bought with a price.

  Jesus, take full possession of all my life.

  You are my King. May I daily reckon that as so,

  Not with my mouth only, bu with all my soul. 

  Lord, break my heart for what breaks Yours.

  This life is not worth living if You're not its source!

     So, Lord, let there be revival,

     And, please, begin it in me!

     Jesus, take this heart of stone

     And give me one that beats

     And yearns for You alone.

It is impossible to truly come face-to-face with God and remain unchanged. Will you yield?

Jesus, whatever it takes, draw Your people to Yourself. May we behold Your glory, and fully yield ourselves and our lives to be willing vessels, shining it forth for all to see the Light of the World. The nations shall know that You are the Lord.