The post is still up. The inbox messages are still coming in. I'm still praying. Walking around and claiming ground for Jesus, and I realize that everywhere I am becomes holy ground. Not a new and original thought, but if I am to ask the Creator and Author of life to keep back evil... I need to be barefoot, because this ground I stand on is His, and it's holy like Him.
I paint black and white. I feel black and white. I can't help it. There is God who is white, and Satan who is black and they mix, but the white.. it wins. Always wins, even when the black seems to be evident everywhere. I come out with a canvas that is mostly white. I step away away... it needs color.
Red. Blue. Green. They are my prayers and they cover the canvas easily. Changing the view I see. Changing the outcome. I stand on holy ground with my colors.. and although my painting changes.. I change with each sentence uttered. Each stroke. Each tear. My heart beats faster and faster and I become calm in His hands. He forms my thoughts and I pray and color, color and pray.
"O you who hears prayer, to you shall all flesh come."
It seems so simple. So controversial. Can I with my palette really ask God to intervene on matters that I know He allowed to happen in the first place? What difference can my prayers really make? I feel so small in the midst of this theology and yet, I'm still barefoot. Holy Ground.
In my limited knowledge of prayer. I know it works, but I can't tell you how. It's a journey I'm still on. I know that God is a God who loves me. And if you love someone, the first thing you want to do it spend time with them. Prayer is that vehicle for me.. God changes me when I cry out to Him. God paints a different picture in my mind when I'm close to Him. I choose to stand on holy ground barefoot because I'm not content with a black and white life. I need a little color, and I know that pleases my God.
"the meadows clothe themselves with flocks, the valleys deck themselves with grian. they shout and sing together for joy."