I was listening to Corey Russell preach on my way to work this morning. I got to track four, which I've listened to probably a hundred times, about the power of a simple, annointed gospel and prayer. About the lack of prayer, the need for prayer, the power of prayer. About my inability to do anything great without His grace. Out of no where my eyes welled up and I couldn't help but weep.
I'm not scheduled for "Blessed are those who mourn ..." until February, but I mourned. I mourned the apathy and indifference that had so subtly taken possession of my spirit. I mourned the condition of the western Church, so confident in our own riches that we deny His power. I mourned every minute of the past two and half years that I could have been in prayer, but wasted otherwise. What will become of us?
Consider and hear me, O LORD my God; Enlighten my eyes, Lest I sleep the sleep of death (Ps 13).