Up nights

Insomnia has to be one of the worst things anyone could experience. The intense desire to rest completely, while comfortable amid warm, fluffy blankets in a dark room... I don't struggle with it, thankfully, because I make for a pretty grumpy person in the mornings even when I do get enough sleep. Last night was an exception.

I'm sure it was God. I felt like I was struggling with Him, Genesis 32 style. He was telling me to pray, I just couldn't figure out about what exactly... so I just started praying for everything I could think of. Mostly for the church I am privileged to be a member of. (http://www.seacoast.org/campushome.asp?pageID=1128) Every time I think about it I get that feeling in my stomach... that kind of queasy feeling right in the bottom of my stomach that, in the past, has accompanied being spoken to or used by God. On a personal level as well as one with the church, I feel like we're on the cusp of something. Our campus pastor encouraged us to 're-imagine' what we, as a church, could be in Greensboro. So, last night in my wrestling, I imagined. (And I'm quite good at it, ask any of my teachers and they'd tell you I spent an inordinate amount of time dreaming.) I prayed for what I was imagining to come to pass. I see a second service. I see a consistently organized building, I see a safe place for anyone hurting or with questions, I see all members pitching in, I see those lost coming through our doors and I see a fire.

So, I began to pray for myself, that God would light the fire in me. My consistent prayer has been that God would make Philippians 1:6 true in my life. That He would finish the work He started in me years ago. And a couple of days ago in a short devotional I try to read was a commentary on Isaiah 64:8, "We are like clay, and you are the potter; your hands made us all." Max Lucado encourages that "we are tweakable!" So, at 1am this morning, my prayers were lifted to the Lord begging Him to make me worthy of the 'fire.' I'm the clay, no matter how many times God has to start over with me, I want to be molded into something useful.