Written in my journal 30,000+ from Nairobi to Jo-berg:





Lord, I look at the field of clouds, and I don’t know what it is. Do planes make me cry?

You created this whole beautiful world. This endless world, with Your endless love. Billions of people, each with millions of hairs that You could give each a unique name.

And here I am. A no one. A number in a crowd. But I am Your son. Your child… who can’t seem to grow. Who has been stunted in life by confusion, self-agenda, and laziness.
Lord God of all the heavens, I beg of You for passion and forgiveness.

I plead Jesus, to fill me up. Guide me. Take this useless flesh and restore unto me the joy of my salvation, and renew a right spirit within me.
I don’t know how much pride has to do with this, but I want to do BIG things for You.
Evident things.

Heal me so I can [through You] heal others. Minister to me, so I can minister to others. Lead me and guild me so I can do the same to Your people.

Father, You gave Your people Jericho with endless walls against them. You gave freedom to Your people with a Red Sea against them. Lord, You gave us salvation with hell against us.
Father God of the heavens, can You give me Africa?! Can You give The Family Church the world?!

In the face of reality, Muslim’s intimidate me, Islam’s bother me, and Christian’s annoy me.
Revive in me and TFC the life and promise that comes in prayer.
Revive us oh God.
Let Your children prove to this earth the wonder-working God You are. The TRUE King, who died for His kingdom, rather than sending the weak to the front line.

And God, if only a last request, (an unappealing, and to us stale Christians, boring at the thought of) Lord, let it start at home.

My church is not inside four walls, but inside city gates.
Give Your children the peace, wisdom, and power to take the city; igniting a wildfire that cannot contain within the continent.

I pray these things, Lord, as still the simple, and perhaps often intimidated servant You call Your own.

Still trying to love You just as much,
Aaron


P.S.- Lord, may we be reminded that our past does not disqualify us from Your call.