Oh servant of the Lord…
I dare you to sit in the corner of that dark room,
and for just a moment look through your tears and recall
that hallowed memory when He Called your name.
You trembled at Heaven's audacity, and yet, you never stood so tall.
Yes, that cherished thing is marred by time and abrasions of battle.
You thought to abandon it, but your eyes could see nothing else.
Can you smell it? It carries the faint aroma of oil that has been smeared upon you time and again from Heaven's Hand. You love that smell. It soothes your soul in fretful nights.
Does anything feel so precious as those brittle pages of His Word on your fingers?
Is there any euphoria as great as knowing you have heard Him speak to your heart?
Even your wounds are sermons He Preaches through you. Your failures could not chase Him from your side. ..... Rejection and disappointment only magnify His faithfulness to you.
Oooh, how blessed you are. How Blessed, how Blessed you are.
And so I beg you to breathe deeply. Pick up the treasure of your Calling from where you laid it. Touch it gently with faithful fingers.
Bring it to your breast and Hallow it again in your heart. Whisper to your soul "I am Redeemed. I am Called. I am Anointed." Yes . . . you are.+
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