So I've just come back from a week in a field with friends and Daddy God. It's a sign of how tired I am that, as I wrote that first sentence, I expected my laptop to do the same predictive text wizardry that my Blackberry provides. It's been an incredible week of some immense teaching and worship, and realising that I was hanging out with 5000 people who could see a generation changed through their passion for Jesus. It's been a week of beginning to believe that little me could be instrumental in seeing injustice banished and captives set free, freed from slavery, the sex trade, addictions, abuse, depression, fear... You name it.
'For I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.' (Phil. 4:13)
At the same time, there has been a realising of the cost of being sold out to Jesus. There has been a laying down of certain could-have-beens, and grief as a season ends. But as one season ends, another begins, right?
This is a woefully incomplete post, but I wanted to write something in the immediacy of returning home. Something that might have to serve as a spark if my fire goes out.
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