Will you pray? Will you silence the omni-directional chatter and listen?
Listen. Offer a sacrificial praise on behalf of loved ones.
You, there. Will you intercede?
She is weak: heavy laden.
She is parched: oh, so thirsty.
Reeling from the diagnosis. Shell-shocked in her grief. So can you lift. Her. Up?
Will you stand? In your firm-footed faith, will you yearn and groan on her behalf? Because she has to get through this. And maybe, just maybe, you are meant to bear her burden this time.
Weary. Withered. Wrought in icy-pain. She cannot see hope. Her eyes see only the temporary turmoil.
But you can. You can see her future. You can see the bone-grief become transformed. You see the sinewy-muscle rebuild itself. You see Blood-bought redemption crash into her aching heart cavern. You see the lifeline that God offers. She’s new-skinned. Re-established because you offered intercession on her behalf.
And so you stand. Gap-standing, sure-fire soul praying, sister who stands. In her Valley of Achor moment, she needs you. She needs you to call out. She needs your faith.
Will you war? Will you war on her behalf? Can you cry out? Can you cry out against serpentine plots and collapse them in The Name Above All Names?
Thwart the worm-tongued ploy.
Roar. Offer your holy roar to The Lion of the Tribe of Judah.
Through the thickets. Will you cut down branches that try to inhibit the calling on her life?
So stand. Stand firm. Breast-plated. Gospel-footed.
Roar. Roar on behalf of your sisters…
[bctt tweet=”Saints who Burn Midnight Oil Get Turn-Around Glory at Dawn.”]