Lampstands

I was crying desperate tears to grasp the lampstand. Its opulence shone gold but that was not the reason I held it. Neither was it the reason the formless perversion of light made insipid yet persisting attempts at its absorption.

I was running through the Iraqi foothills. A night had fallen, but it was only an allusion that had set. My feet were bare but for the Gospel of peace that carried them. I bore a candle as I ran… its luminance tore through the darkness… no longer night but bright as the day.  

I have been weeping tears of the Spirit for the babes of the Levant. The Father’s heart longs to hold them in his arms no longer orphans battered by the brokenness of a dying world but beloved children of the light. He is the hope of the nations, the rising sun. In him is life, and the life is the light of men. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.

Below is a link to blog with opportunities to respond God's comission and #lightacandle

Operation: Light a Candle