I sit here in the dark an dlisten to the whisper in my spirit of the Lord's voice. Not a loud shout, nor a voice like I have known before. An impression deep in my spirit of Him, His love, His heart, His voice, His intentions. The quieter I get in His presence, the more I know things. A quiet certainty. that is what i feel right now. Not even a voice or a phrase, just a quiet certainty. He is here. I am His. I am chosen. Nothing has changed. I am going to Africa this summer. I am going to spend some of my year shoulder to shoulder with the persecuted and oppressed. I do not look with natural eyes. I do not question it...I simply know.

I have been in this place before. It has been some time but I recognise this place, like the musty smell of old familiarity. Like returning home after months of journeying. Like the remnants of a grandparents perfume or a child's blanket. I know this place so well. I am in His heart. I am consumed by Him, ravished by Him, lost in Him. I sit somehow curled in the very chambers of His heart, resting against the strong yet gentle beating of the walls. Never ending, never missing a beat. Faithfulness in every pulse. Every beat strong and yet yearning, longing, a deep beat that contains every bit of His delight and every bit of His grief and longing for His lost. I lay here in total peace and total rest and yet I lay here aching with His ache for those who are so lost and do not even know.

I ache so deeply inside it is like my very being is slowly being dismantled by conflicting emotion. Papa, please may I never leave here. Papa, I love to be with you, I long to be with you, in your very heart, totally surrounded, totally consumed, hearing nothing but you, silence in a constantly busy mind. Nothing but peace and the deep deep knowledge that many things will be and many things are...simply certain because of who you are...oh Papa would I never leave this place! And yet I ache because He aches. You cannot be here long before you ache also. He aches as He looks each one in the eye, as He holds them, loves them, heals them, calls them, feeds them. I ache for the orphan and the outcast. I ache for the broken and the rejected, the ones who have been called nothing. I ache especially for the nameless and the abandoned or the kidnapped. I ache because He aches and soon it is the ultimate dichotomy. At the same time my body and spirit are totally at peace, totally enveloped in His overwhelming love and yet also the blood begins to rush through my ears, my heart quickening in pulse and the ache growing stronger and stronger that I know I must go. I know I must follow and obey and love without measure. Love even if they dont understand me. Love even when they cannot receive it. Love because He loves and because I ache with His ache. Oh Papa, teach me how to bring your children home! Oh Papa that none of them would stay lost and cold and orphan! Oh Papa this place is too beautiful for them to stay in the cold without name or recognition. Oh Papa bring in your bride through me!!!

And so I yield again and again and again and I ask Him to bring me here often. No longer for me anymore, but to remember, that I may beat in rhythm with Him and ache as He aches. That in this place I would take the time to ask...

Papa...how are you today?

Oh God. Oh glorious beautiful majestic God whom I fear and I love with holy trembling, oh mighty awesome God..oh daddy. Would you take this offering, this yielded life. All I have and all I am again and teach me once more.

I love you.