During OIL, we prayed for various campuses and cities as people called ‘em out: Seton Hall! Purdue! Boston University! Philadelphia! Fordham! Duke! Chicago! …

Over 60 campuses and cities were represented. They put them on a screen and we prayed for our generation. And as we prayed, we felt our hearts burn. Burn. BURN.

…

Why don’t we cry for our generation more often?

Why don’t we treat each day as unto the Lord?

Why aren’t we missional to our cities?

Why don’t we pray over our schools and our workplaces?

…

Because we sweat the small stuff.

Because our kingdom is more important than God’s Kingdom.

Because we are self-absorbed rather than God-centered.

…

When I was twelve, our apartment was broken into. The rattling of the keys at the front door must have scared him. From the looks of it, it was probably a dope fiend looking for something pawn-worthy or better yet some cash. I came in to the sound of the back door swinging open and pounding of feet on the wooden steps. The sound disappeared into the back alley before I figured out what was going on.

Me. The latchkey kid. Told my parents everything when they came home from work.

My mom looked like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

She lunged for her bedroom dresser. “Oh no, oh no” her face spoke.

She saw the container on the floor. That container held her future. Down payment for a small shop. Small shop that would make money for a house. For her children’s college tuition.

Her overworked immigrant hands clutched at the container, too nervous to open it to see what she wouldn’t find.

She slowly opened it.

All the air came back into the room.

Bills, every single one of them, intact in the bottom compartment of the container.

Coins, every single one of them, gone on the top compartment of the container.

In his rush, the robber clutched at the worthless coins and didn’t see the bills.

Stupid robber.

…

Unlike a poor immigrant family hiding their money, God is the wealthy heavenly Father who offers Himself to us. For free. As much as we can take. As much as we want.

But the problem is we don’t really want Him. We think the coins are where it’s at. We say, It’s all about the Benjamins Lincolns! Stupid, stupid, stupid. We value the wrong things.

I often clutch at chump change. I often sweat the small stuff. I am often consumed with my needs.

Lord, change me.

I want to clutch after Jesus the Treasure, to live with a Kingdom burden, all for God’s glory.

…

Related Scripture Passages: Matthew 6, Matthew 13, Luke 12, Philippians 2,3.

8 people like this post.

Unlike