Then he will remove His hand. And we will look.

Show me the light of Your countenance, O God, and come to me. Psalm 67:1

Jesus said: “In all truth I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born through water and the Spirit; what is born of human nature is human; what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be surprised when I say: You must be born from above. The wind blows where it pleases; you can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” John 3:5–8

The love of the Saviour was revealed to me, You can't explain what a revelation is. I saw that the Saviour and Father, before I should suffer, would rather suffer for me. No natural love is in the same world as His love. It was not merely that the Saviour helped me outside Himself; no, He took my place. I saw every other love so rough in comparison. Self was the motive of it. But I could see that love enduring through the countless ages of eternity. When you receive the Saviour, you receive the love of God. That love flooded my being, and it has flooded my being ever since. I .saw that by His coming in to me, He would love sinners through me, as He loved me. It would not be forcing myself to love others, any more than the Saviour forced Himself to love me. No person could be an enemy to me, because I had been an enemy to Him before I was reconciled. If I live in the realm where He is, I live to have mercy, and to be kind, to love others. Could the love of God in me do harm to anyone? I had left the world and its folly, and been born into that Kingdom where there is only the love of God -- the most attractive life on the face of the earth. –Rees Howells

So I started off yesterday with this question in my heart…What is it that I ask of You, in Your name? That You promise to do so that the Father will be glorified in the Son. Anything. Ask anything in Your name, and You will do it.

I didn’t have an answer yet.

Anything.

And my soundtrack for the ride down Broadway was once again Audry Assad: From the need to be understood From the need to be accepted From the need of being lonely Deliver me O God Deliver me O God.

And I glanced over the Mother Teresa prayer taped to my windshield: Dear Jesus, help us to spread your fragrance everywhere we go. Flood our souls with your spirit and life. Penetrate and possess our whole being so utterly, that our lives may only be a radiance of yours.

And I briefly mulled over the Request for Presence, Show me the light of Your countenance, O God, and come to me, but my attention was distracted by all of the usual darts, and the day quickly unraveled into a tear-blurred rollercoaster ride of humiliation.

But last night I rode out to the airport and once again I waited below the escalator and watched the distorted people walk past the camera monitor.  I have done this sort of thing a lot. Lots of memories. And Nicole had stories of her adventures by the sea, hard and good. And profound.

And last night I began to read the story of Rees Howells. A very nice Christian Welshman who at last saw the light of His countenance. And when the love of God was revealed to him, his life was never the same.

And oddly enough the Request for Presence was the same today as yesterday:

Show me the light of Your countenance, O God, and come to me.

Anything.

In My name.

Show me the light of Your countenance, O God, and come to me.

Seeing through the broken down trailers with punched-in walls and dingy apartment doors.

Lord Jesus, have mercy on me.

May God be gracious to us and bless us
    and make His face shine on us—
so that Your ways may be known on earth,
    Your salvation among all nations.

Selah.                                                                         Psalm 67:1

The Jesus prayer consist of the simple words: “Lord Jesus, have mercy on me.”

Unceasing prayer is not just the unusual feat of a simple Russian peasant (The Way of the Pilgrim) but a realistic vocation for all Christians. It is certainly not a way of living that comes either automatically by simply desiring it or easily by just praying once in a while. But when we give it serious attention and develop an appropriate discipline, we will see a real transformation in our lives that will lead us closer and closer to God. Unceasing prayer as a permanent and unchangeable state of mind will never be reached. It will always require our attention and discipline. Nevertheless, we will discover that many of the disturbing thoughts that seem to distract us are being transformed into the ongoing praise of God. When we see with increasing clarity the beauty of the Father through His Son, we will discover that created things no longer distract us. On the contrary, they will speak in many ways about Him. Then we will realize that prayer is neither more nor less than the constant practice of the presence of God at all times and in all places. Henri Nouwen, Clowning in Rome

So last night City Psalms played…well, played is certainly not the right word. Maybe blew the proverbial trumpet? Calling the Church to live the gospel. To pray as if we expected answers. To live as if we believe it is true. To see each person in our path with the love of Christ.

And that is the point of it all, so that His ways will be made known on earth, His salvation among all the peoples.

The city, God, You love her so
Her sons abandoned long ago
Her daughters ravaged in the night
While we all turn our backs and hide
Break my heart in two 'til they return to You

The city, God, she hides her face
She breaks Your heart
You give her grace
She curses You in all her shame
But You pursue her all the same
Break my heart in two 'til she returns to You

You love her so

Take my heart, it is Your own
And fill my hands with seeds to sow
Reprimand my foolish pride
So I can see her with Your eyes

Break my heart in two 'til she returns to You

And right now Nicole has a couple of her students over for French toast, strawberries and cappuccino on the back porch. Because one of them asked her to please take her to church. And this little girl lives in a one-room apartment with six brothers and sisters all from different fathers. It’s a little chaotic. And one can only imagine the oooh’s and aaah’s as they look at Alan’s parrots and greenhouse and the sparkle-lit living room before they head off to Passion church to hear about the One Who Loves Her So.

Multiply this by bunches and bunches in our little city where more than half of the students in public schools fall below the poverty line.

While we all turn our backs and hide.

Take my heart, it is Your own
And fill my hands with seeds to sow.

Reprimand my foolish pride
So I can see her with Your eyes.

May I see with increasing clarity the beauty of the Father through His Son.

Lord Jesus, have mercy on me.

Lord Jesus, have mercy on us.

All God's promises are yes and amen.

Show me the light of your countenance, O God, and come to me. Psalm 67:1

So this morning’s plop of the paper headlines brought news of the “Deluge brings mudslides, flooding to Southern California.” And both California and Arizona are suffering from a historical drought. And people in the southwest spend a lot of time cinching in their metaphorical belts as the dust swirls about, looking longingly up into the sky.

photo by Cate Wilcox

And this morning there was a huge rainbow stretching across the Tucson western sky. Even though it hadn’t rained. But it was a promise. A promise of God’s goodness. Even our quite wry and very stoical swim coach pulled out his smart phone camera and muttered something about this proving that there is a God.

And yesterday a student asked me if there were any examples of perseverance in the Bible for their final essay on their final exam ever for Mrs. Voelkel, a persuasive essay about what really matters in life. And I told him that my favorite Bible hero is Joseph, and maybe it doesn’t seem like much, but what he persevered was in hope. Joseph never lost sight of that childhood promise, even though absolutely nothing in life seemed to support his dreams, from being sold into slavery and tossed over a camel’s back to being unjustly tossed into what I am sure was a quite unpleasant prison, he hung in there, doing the small things well, the small things faithfully. And he didn’t grow bitter or vengeful. Rather he saw God’s good hand through it all.

 

And as we continued swimming in the early morning, a fine mist filled the air. It wasn’t even splatters of raindrops. Just a sweet refreshment that sort of reminded me of those whose heart is set on a pilgrimage, even in the Valley of Bitterness, they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools.

And as I wrapped my puddled parka around my shoulders and headed home, my heart sang in peace. He is good. And the prayer of thanksgiving comes before the blessing. Eucharist. The promise comes before the rains.

And the rain is now pounding on the down in buckets. Shoot, and I didn’t bring in dry firewood.