You are currently browsing the category archive for the 'Eternity' category.
Blogging… hmmmm… I remember blogs. My favorite two things about blogging are:
- To read my faraway (and nearer) friends’ blogs and feel that closeness and day to day journey again – something you just can’t have when you have four states in between you (or more) – and I really do miss you guys, just so you know… and that day to day glimpse into each other’s hearts and lives something that is even hard in the world of night and day prayer (even though we’re in the same city) for moms with little ones trying to spin so many plates at once in a world where nothing stops (24 hours a day, 7 days a week)
- I love writing and I love looking back and remembering what Noah did that day or how the Lord touched my heart during that particular time
Yet, sometimes, like the last however many months, you just don’t feel like blogging or at least I don’t. Anyone know what I mean? (Especially when you are an introvert like me — an INFJ for all you Meyers Briggs fans). I have to FEEL it to express it and I have to be a bit out of my cave. So what brought me out of my cave of late?
Simple. 10 YEARS of night and day prayer. I’m just a mess over it : )
Ten years… night and day and day and night, no matter the hour… or as my much more eloquent husband says in a yet-to-be-released publication (that he might not be so thrilled about me posting on the world wide web), “If you happened to wander in at 3am on a Sunday or 5pm on a Wednesday you would discover a room longer than it is wide, large enough to hold only several hundred grey chairs. At the front is a small platform where roughly ten souls, most of whom haven’t yet reached twenty-five years, play instruments and lift their voices in a flowing dance of structure and spontaneity mingled with interjections of spoken prayers. Before them an assembly of people that ebbs and flows in size sits not looking at them but beyond them, offering supplication and praise to the One who alone is worthy of this incessant attention.”
And the reason for this phenomenon? Well, I can tell you this… it’s not about a cool ministry or cool music (cuz ahem… we’re not that cool, people, trust me). It’s not about the right marketing strategy or big conferences (cuz um, well, I won’t say anything about that). Night and day prayer is about Heaven. It’s about wanting things on earth as they are in Heaven. And Heaven is a real place that is utterly centered around one Triune Person… the living God. Our beloved Jesus Christ, the Worthy One, preeminent and supreme in all things for all time, in Whom we live and breath and have our being, by Whom and for Whom all things that were made were made, He is before all things and in Him, all things hold together. “Night and day prayer is not a testimony to human dedication but rather to the power of the majesty of Jesus to ensnare weak hearts and hold them fast in unending preoccupation.” (Stephen Venable)
This is where my heart has been feasting these last few weeks… in not just Kansas City, but the many expressions and witnesses God has risen up all over the earth to declare one thing, “Jesus Christ is worthy.” More worthy than our wealth, more worthy than all the opportunities to ignore Him, more worthy than our ministries, more worthy than our egos, more worthy than the rulers of the earth… worthy, worthy, worthy is the Lamb, the One that was and is and is to come.
On September 19th, here in Kansas City, we celebrated 10 years of unceasing worship and prayer in our community. Of which, I have been blessed to be a part of 8 1/2 of them. I so remember first coming here… which is a crazy story that I won’t go into. But I came from a VERY nice church and let’s face it in Texas, we just do things… well, BIG. So I came with a certain “assumption” of what the International House of Prayer would look like. And well, let’s just say it was not what I expected. It was the “stable” as some like to call it… it was – well, it was a trailer. That’s it. I think I was like the 30-something’th person on staff. And now, ten years later, we are bursting at the seams (in thousands) with I don’t even know how many properties – all with crazy God stories as to why we even have them (like Harry Truman’s land that was sold to us by a Jewish man) and crazy stories like that. So much has changed in 10 years. But what brought me to tears as we celebrated these last 10 years were not all the changes and all the testimonies of how far God has brought us over a decade… but the flame. The fire in men and women and children’s hearts that brings them day after day after night after night back to the place of prayer and of worship… the testimony of Christ that is whispered in the walls of that building over on Red Bridge and the fragrance that rises toward Heaven… His gaze peering back at us, weak and broken and striving human beings that we are, yet He sees and knows and loves. That mighty flame… loving and being loved by God Himself… prayers offered by the saints in accordance with His will… it remains. That is simply stunning to me. Everything around us might be changing, but the reality that binds us together is unchanging, eternal, unfailing… Jesus Christ is worthy… He is supreme.
In addition, during this ten-year celebration, the Lord put on the hearts of the leadership team that this the time to start 24/7 works of Justice. Justice being outreach of all sorts – from simple evangelism to a Women’s Life Center to rescue, support and help victims of the sex-trafficking trade to Orphan Justice and adoption to an inner city mission center and prayer room as well as many other ministries flowing out of the place of night and day supplication for the mercy of God. The center and heartbeat of the International House of Prayer will always, always be night and day prayer and worship. All other realities flow out of that singular calling the Lord has put at the heart of this ministry. Yet, I so feel the answer and kindness of the Lord to us in this season to grow even deeper in the place of prayer and in the 1st commandment by diving deeper into the 2nd commandment. My heart has been really stirred by compassion and service flowing from the reality of night and day prayer… something I hope to write about a little more in the weeks ahead if I can find time. Aslan is on the move… : )
Here are a few fun videos remembering the last 10 years that were showed during the celebration services:
Mourning makes us poor; it powerfully reminds us of our smallness. But it is precisely here, in that pain or poverty or awkwardness, that the Dancer invites us to rise up and take the first steps. For in our suffering, not apart from it, Jesus enters our sadness, takes us by the hand, pulls us gently up to stand, and invites us to dance. We find the way to pray, as the psalmist did, “You have turned my mourning into dancing” (Ps. 30:11), because at the center of our grief, we find the grace of God. (Henri Nouwen)
Never before has the reality of our life as a vapor (James 4) or a fading flower (Isa 40) been so tangibly real in my own life as it has in the last month or so… yet simultaneously, it is as if I am living in slow motion right now, where every breath seems to come to me just as slow as it leaves me, where every joy stuns and overwhelms me as it slowly washes over me and every sorrow wounds me as it steadily penetrates all my pretentious defenses. Some days I feel like I’m the person in that climactic scene that we’ve all seen in the movies where the slow ballad plays and the main character is taking stock of his or her life through one slow motion glimpse or memory after another. It’s amazing how even in the small things… like a lily opening up her ’soul’ to the sun after a sweet spring rain OR the innocent delight of my little Noah as he runs from one side of the room to the other while turning his cute smiling face to find Mommy’s delight in him as he passes me by… in these little, slow-moving moments, my eyes seem to open to Something, or Someone, more alive than life itself.
The days have been indescribably slow, yet indelibly transforming. In the same chapter by Henri Nouwen quoted above, he says:
“I once saw a stonecutter remove great pieces from a huge rock on which he was working. In my imagination I thought, That rock must be hurting terribly. Why does this man wound the rock so much? But as I looked longer, I saw the figure of a graceful dancer emerge gradually from the stone, looking at me in my mind’s eye and saying, “You foolish man, didn’t you know that I had to suffer and thus enter into my glory?”
Mourning, loss, suffering, pain… all of these have an unwavering power to reveal our humanity – our smallness in the scheme of things – as well as our deep disdain for said weakness. In the best of circumstances, it is easy to sing the old song, “I Surrender All…” but when push comes to shove, those words do not fall from our lips quite as freely. Or maybe they do, but the weight of them upon our souls is absolutely crushing if we are truly ‘drinking the cup.’
I have been ”enjoying” that place of crushing these last few months. I find that I am utterly helpless in this experience of physical pain. I can take the medicines that are available to me and I can go through a short list of things that might help, but at the end of the day, all I can really do is endure. And even enduring has taken on an entirely new meaning. It’s hard to explain, but quite honestly, I have never experienced this kind of pain before and it has been a trial by fire unlike anything I have ever known. Have you ever felt something, whether physically or emotionally, that you really (in all honesty, with no drama or exaggeration) thought that there was no way you could take one more second of… that it was too much and in its absolute desolation, you were left reeling as you tried to figure out a way to stop it, get out of it, or just do absolutely anything so you didn’t have to experience one more minute of it??
A friend of mine, D, had one of those labor and deliveries that we all pray will never happen to us. Her baby’s head was turned and literally ”stuck” in the birth canal after hours and hours of labor. The epidural that she was given to help alleviate the excruciating pain had somehow come unplugged, so she was left to experience every second of it. Afterwards she recalled reaching a point in the midst of it where she just knew, “This is it. I cannot go on any longer.” And when she was describing just how bad it was and how she had reached that place where she knew she couldn’t take it anymore… I remember another friend, who we will call MB, responding (in a way that only he could get away with), “What does that mean? What was the alternative?” Meaning, what other option did she have?
And that, my friends, is the crushing blow. There are no options. It might get better, it might stay the same, or it may even get worse, but time will still keep moving and there is no other way around what lies ahead… the only way is THROUGH it. And it is in our journey through that we find this profound invitation from the Lord.
Because you see, He too went through and not around. Jesus, though being in very nature God Himself, made Himself nothing, humbled Himself and became obedient to death, even death on a Cross. He suffered more than any man, before or since. He was beaten and scourged so much so that He was unrecognizable as a man. Yet He was God… unlike us, He had a choice to go above or around or any other way He wanted, but He chose to go through… Jesus chose the Cross.
Now if God went through and not around, where does that leave us?
Well… first and foremost, it means we are not alone. There is no pain too horrific, no loss too unimaginable, no depth too dark and impenetrable that Love hasn’t travelled the road before us. Love went to the abyss and death didn’t win… even the grave could not contain Him. He united Himself to us forever when He took on flesh and He invites us to know something of Himself even (and especially) as we travel down the terrifyingly dark alleyways life brings us. God chose to reveal the passion of His own heart in the way of the Cross, and the way to the Resurrection will always be through, never around, the Cross.
We also find each other at the foot of the Cross. We are bound one to another in our “human-ness.” Though our roads may look a bit different, we are all in the same boat. We’re not so different from each other… we’re all utterly human and vulnerable to the storms that rage around us. But that’s a different post…
His way also reveals the ‘other side.’ The joy that comes on Easter morning. There is a promise, a living Hope, set before us in that Day. Though we die a thousand deaths, death has forever lost its sting. Oh glorious Day… how I long for the rising of the Son and the end of this long night. But the darkest hour comes just before the dawn. The way from Palm Sunday to Easter is the way of suffering.
And so, it came in a dream – the answer to my reachings for the Lord in the midst of this crazy hard season. One night last week, I had a dream where I was in this desert and it was pitch black. I was laying with my face in the dirt (appropriately). And as I laid there, I started to hear the sound of these deep African drums and dark wind instruments. The music got louder and louder and I heard what sounded like a children’s choir singing “dance, dance, dancing in the dirge” until their voices seemed to lift me out of the dirt onto my feet. And just as I took my first step into a dance, I woke up. I woke up with a new understanding…
Somewhere in this rubble and mass of stone, there lives a dancer. Though right now, it is hard to see… maybe no one knows except the Sculptor that she’s even there… but what He sees is all that matters. The path toward freedom comes as I surrender myself to the Hands of the Master. I have before me this incredible invitation to travel with Him through the way of Love that I would not miss its heights and depths. And what I am discovering is that the Dancer dances even now. Here in the midst of mourning is where I find my first steps… it is here in the dirge that I am learning the foundations of the dance as I surrender to His perfect leadership in each movement and with every breath.
Yet I must confess that even as I took my first steps, I found myself asking Him with fear in my heart… are You sure this is the way??
But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”
Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Cor 12:9-10)
Happy Week After Resurrection Day!
more about “Video of I Have Seen the Lord” :: Des…“, posted with vodpod
Just a disclaimer… kind of in a whirlwind right now and typing is difficult, so this post may be choppy and my train of thought may not make any sense at all, so don’t feel obligated to read it. Writing is sometimes just my remembrance of His faithfulness.
If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world… I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to the other country and to help others do the same. C. S. Lewis
And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And Hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, Whom He has given us. (Romans 5)
Hope does not disappoint. That phrase has been swimming in my mind all day today. I remember once hearing this woman’s story of hope in the face of unthinkable circumstances on a documentary about the Holocaust. As a young Jewish girl, she and her family were sent away to one of the worst concentration camps in Europe. Long before they were captured, the woman’s mother had sown diamonds into the seam of her skirt, believing that they might be able to use the diamonds to pay for food or even to negotiate their freedom. Of course upon arriving at the camp, they were ordered to take off their clothes and surrender all their valuables. The young girl in a desperate moment, not wanting to surrender the jewels that her mother had linked to their survival, made what may seem to us (as we sit here in our comfy chairs with our laptops in our 3bdrm, 2 bath houses) a hasty and somewhat irrational decision, to swallow the diamonds. Once inside the camp, however many days later, the diamonds were completely digested and left her body again. Let the reader understand…
At this point, she made another decision that may push the bounds of sanity for most of us – if in fact, she was living in a “sane” world, which she clearly was not — and that was to ingest the diamonds again. She actually did this again and again for the entire time she was in that camp… day after day in that mad and uncivilized world she had become a part of, she ingested those diamonds — which were utterly meaningless in that place (they wouldn’t get her food or freedom or even her humanity back), but to her, they meant everything. The diamonds were her only hope. And so she consumed her symbol of hope and hid them away, in a place where they would not be discovered nor taken from her. They were her secret, her hope of survival. In the documentary, as she told her story from her rocking chair, she wore the diamonds in a necklace in the shape of a tear drop.
Her story may be disturbing and even a little uncouth especially in the world most of us live in day to day, but the world she lived in was anything but civilized. The mask came off and the evil and chaos of this world was revealed in the most unimaginable ways and what she had to do was survive. And for her, the way to hold on was to cling to the only thing she could… hope (albeit, a lesser hope than I am referring to in this post).
Though I have never suffered anything close to what this young girl and so many millions like her endured in the Holocaust (and millions that are suffering from genocide, wars and famine still today)…. still in my personal journey through much smaller trials and lesser pains, her story very much resonates with me and points toward a greater Truth. I have become well-acquainted with the unmerciful adversary of Pain. The prison of sickness is an unforgiving and unrelenting experience. I think I underestimated its resolve at first, but I am learning the potency of suffering more and more each day. Upon entering its chambers, you are forced to surrender abilities, talents, plans, relationships, finances, comfort, and sometimes even your sanity to name a few (though nothing is off limits to be sure)… but I have a secret that even these walls cannot contain. The Lord was not kidding when He said that there are some things that can never be taken away from us.
Pain and trials have an uncanny ability to reveal all manner of secrets within and without… but none so important as what, or by the grace of God Who, has made a home in our souls. Believe me, when all our little comforts are removed, those grandiose plans, superior opinions or friendly old sentimentalities will do nothing to keep you or anyone you know cozy and warm at night. All the ’necessary’ possessions, enlightening information, and engaging entertainment, even our ministries - the host of lesser pleasures that we spend most of ourselves on will do nothing to abate the chasm God carved out for Him and Him alone within the human soul. And there is nothing like a little “suffering” to reveal the shadows we are so helplessly clinging to. So how can we rejoice then in all manner of trials and suffering as the New Testament writers all suggest in their epistles?
I have had people say things like, “It’s so good that you have your ‘religion’ or your ‘faith’ or your ‘hope’ to help you through this.” It kind of makes me cringe when I hear it now because I don’t take the words ‘hope’ or ’faith’ lightly. They are the mountains within… they are my Friends and my Life. They are far from a religious idea or some sort of nice sentimentality that calms my fears of things like death or pain. They aren’t just words on paper. I would be lost, utterly lost, without them. And you can’t fake ‘hope.’ You either have Hope or you don’t… because Hope – Hope is a Person. There is a real Person standing on the other side of that word and He’s God and He’s a Man. It’s Jesus who is the Hope that anchors our soul. And the crazy thing about Hope is that no matter how hard these prison walls try to crush us, Hope cannot be destroyed. In fact, the pressure only causes Hope (with Faith and Love) to abound still more and more.
Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. (2 Corinthians 4)
And so tonight, my body may be weak and pain is all around, but I have Hope. And that Hope comes from the kindest and most faithful Person I have ever known. He is real. He is the King and His Kingdom is coming. I know this place is not my home – I am merely a pilgrim passing through. Jesus is my strength and my Portion forever. And so I curl up tonight with my faithful friends, Faith Hope and Love, and know they will not disappoint.
Because you see…
Hope, He is coming for me.
John Piper just released a fully illustrated hard copy book on suffering through the life of Job. I don’t have it but I’ve read Piper’s poetry related to Job and the passages below have been really touching my heart lately… so I thought I’d pass on some excerpts to you. You can read more here.
These paragraphs are from the end of each of the four sections in the poem. They are my favorite parts. Again, I did NOT write this (so as to avoid plagiarism and/or anything else… including a debate on how sovereignty and suffering work out theologically) — the poetry below is by John Piper.
Part One: O God Have Mercy on My Seed
Light candle one, and count the cost;
And ponder everything we’ve lost.
And let us bow before the throne
Of God, who gives and takes his own,
And promises, whatever toll
He takes, to satisfy our soul.
Come learn the lesson of the rod:
The treasure that we have in God.
He is not poor nor much enticed
Who loses everything but Christ.
Part Two: That I Should Bear This Pain, Not You
This candle two gives little light,
And does not make the darkness bright.
But keep it lit and you will find:
Far better this than being blind.
One little flame when all is night,
Proves there is such a thing as light.
One answered prayer when all is gone,
Will give you hope to wait for dawn.
Part Three: O Spare Me Now, My Friends, Your Packages of God
Come let us make with candle three
An advent warning by the sea -
A signal where the sailors cling
To life through reefs of suffering,
And need the blast of light and bell:
Beware, what here beneath may dwell.
Beware of subtle, shrewd assaults,
A half-truth can be wholly false.
Beware of wisdom made in schools,
And proverbs in the mouth of fools.
Beware of claims that rise too tall:
“the upright stand and wicked fall”
Beware the thought that all is vain,
In time God’s wisdom will be plain.
Part Four: Unkindly Has He Kindly Shown Me… God
Behold the light of candle four:
What we have lost God will restore
When he is finished with his art,
The silent worship of our heart.
When God creates a humble hush,
And makes Leviathan his brush,
It won’t be long until the rod
Becomes the tender kiss of God.
For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies…
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. (II Corinthians 4:6-10, 16-18 ESV)
Yes, this is an old favorite… I think I have written about this verse before. But I am brought back to its resounding truth and my soul is anchored by the weight of it today. It is the chorus of my heart and the melody before my King.
Surpassing power belongs to God and not to me… afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; struck down, but alive ever more… the light momentary afflictions we endure in this age are preparing us for an eternal weight of glory that is beyond anything we could hope for or imagine and so our eyes are fixed not on our circumstances or the things we face in time and space, but on things eternal, our destiny in Christ and hope of glory. We fix our gaze on the glory of God in the face of Christ. For He alone is worthy of our attention.
It’s so easy to measure ourselves by our outward circumstance, our abilities, and what we “do” day to day to make a difference in the world around us. I remember filling out disability forms several years ago and coming face to face with my own, very false estimations of worth in the world in a way that left me utterly decimated before the Lord. The forms basically outlined every single thing that I could NOT do… that was their purpose (and they were quite successful, I might add). And so I spent many days during that season recording and listing my UN-achievements and my DIS-abilities. It was awful… and by ‘awful,’ I mean utterly atrocious. I don’t think I could exaggerate that whole experience if I tried. I was completely unprepared for the impact and revelation it would have on my life and heart. There I sat face to face with my own weaknesses and inabilities to even do ‘normal’ life activities… I was exposed before my own eyes. The truth was out. I was not that great… not that strong… and I really had nothing to boast of at all. Unbeknowst to me, I had been defining myself all along by what I could “do” – what gifts I had to offer, what ministry tasks I could perform, my type A personality, and even my ability to seemingly ‘control’ the world around me by excelling at all sorts of things I thought mattered. When all that was stripped away, who was I really? That was the question that came before the Lord. And so begun a season where He is truly re-defining me and refining me in the reality of His love and His identity. It’s been a long season. You see, I’m extrordinarily full of pride… I think maybe more than most 
And so, I think this season may last a lifetime… but even if it takes all my days, I want HIS NAME written on my heart and not my own.
Thus says the LORD:”Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the LORD who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the LORD.” (Jeremiah 9:23-24 ESV)
Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (II Corinthians 9b-10 ESV)
These have been the meditations of my heart this last week. I’m still ‘healing’ from the fall down the stairs, and I’ve been mostly confined to the four walls of my room these last days. I’m weary, but I’m strengthened by the knowledge of God. Today I was thinking of the ‘great cloud of witnesses’ and our call to run the race set before us with endurance as they peer at us intently through the lattice of time along with the Holy Three. I don’t know if they cheer us on, but in my heart, I was imagining the voices of the saints of old surrounding the body of Christ in the earth today singing, “You CAN press on… keep running… He is real, He is beautiful, and He is worth it. Don’t be afraid to let suffering have its way in your life that it may produce endurance, character and a Hope that will never disappoint you. Don’t give up… keep coming to the God whose love even the grave cannot contain. Keep running child, for God is with you.” And so I’m running into His embrace. God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever and forever (Ps 73).
What defines a man? The question should be Who… Who defines a man? God has redefined the word “great” in my life these last few years. Those that I respect the most are not ‘great’ because they have a powerful ministry or so called ‘anointing’ on their lives. It’s not because of what they contribute to me or to the body of Christ or to the world at large. Their greatness hinges on a God who so loved the world that He gave… He served… He loved to the end and beyond time itself. And they have given themselves not to the outward appearance that is so often valued the most, but to a life in secret before the One who is Reality and Greatness and Life Himself. They have truly abandoned themselves to the knowledge of the God who practices steadfast love, justice and righteousness in the earth, that they may boast only in Jesus Christ. It’s not lip service – it’s real. The truth of their lives is not just in the pulpit or in public, it is lived out before the throne. It is rare in the earth… it’s the narrow way. But it exists. Oh, this is my heart’s ambition. I am so not there yet, I can assure you (remember I said above I need a lot of work), but it is the truest desire of my heart (which in and of itself must be the Lord because I know the ugly state of my heart better than anyone else )
So may we all be encouraged to go our way to the secret place before His throne where all our longings are fulfilled and where Greatness is found… and may we endure, as James says, so that steadfastness may have its full effect, that we may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1) Jesus is real, He is beautiful, and He is worth it.
Today is a hard day. I’m in a lot of pain… can’t move much… and when you add fasting to that, well… it just is what is. But oh how beautiful is the love of God that upholds me even now… how unfathomable is His grace that strengthens me from within.
Whom have I in heaven but You?
And there is none upon earth that I desire besides You.
My flesh and my heart fail;
But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Though my flesh is weak and frail, my heart is singing ”I BELIEVE” on this rainy day. This (the song below) has been the song of my heart all afternoon. I absolutely LOVE this song… it brings me so near.
And if you haven’t heard the testimony behind the song, you need to watch this too. May it be a testimony to your heart and usher you into the chambers of the King.
