Earlier this year, God gave me the picture of me standing on a beach with my toes firmly planted on a line drawn in the sand. I was not armed, just standing... with God's host of angels at my back. I didn't need a plan 'b', this was where I was supposed to be, toes to the line. All I had to do was be in charge of standing on this one little spot and the rest was covered.
I totally get this, stand firm, God's got IT covered. He is calling me out from the shallow end to stand in my destiny of where He is leading me. Like women's ministry, intercession, and somewhat even more specatuclar is this redeemed/revived friendship for a broken friendship. I so get it God! I was standing where you called me to be and so was she; I knew that I was supposed tobe on that spot, who was I to question why SHE was there too. Maybe she was supposed to be ...duh. CLEARLY, DUH! By us floating on the line together, the natural reaction might of been to run away and hide. I am not ready, don't make me be friends, please don't make her talk to me, can't we just pretend, please don't look at me... but we didn't run. AND now? I love her. God is so crafty, I wish I could see more than the end of my nose!
With toes to the line I stand, but now I am picking up my armor. Now is not the time to let the enemy near. I am not afraid and I do stand in faith, but I am not stupid, every gain for God's territory is a red flag for the enemy; he does not want God's inevitable vicotry and will create distractions and obstacles. If you can do nothing more than stand on your little line, fine, God's got it covered. But, seriously dude, at least think about the whole armor thing. It is a one size fits all kind of outfit... and I don't think it makes your backside look big, so pick it up!
I refuse to ask what HE is up too right now, God is so busy pulling me through this world, I think I just need to enjoy the ride. If I ask for bigger battles, I know He will deliver, and as much as I enjoy a good fight, I like the direction things are going. No, it's not a comfort thing, believe me. It's a growing thing. God is molding me into a new creation, and in this new infancy, poking the enemy in the nose seems a little bit rash. Okay, maybe the whole check your baggage posting poked him in the nose, but I am ready to back that one up. Full on combat, maybe not so much!
Waiting Expectantly... it wasn't me... it was HIM.