Intercession was a mountain I kept circling, always in desire and never in disobedience. But, like discipleship, reading your Word, or signs and wonders, you wanted me to approach this mountain the right way. There are formulas and methods, yes, but you said those weren’t for me. They don’t suit us well, you said. I like it when we have things just for us.
Without faith it’s impossible to please you, because the one who desires to please you must know that you exist and that you reward those who seek you. Wow, what a fresh breath that is. I don’t think this “knowing” that you exist is a cerebral belief, either. I think it’s experiential.
Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. I had to know you, to know who I was talking to. Intercession is a conversation, first and foremost. There’s another person on the the other side, you. Who are you?
Who are you and what do you want? What are your intentions? I had to discover you with my heart. Confidence, hope, and assurance are born from safety. I had to yada you. And oh, what a joy that was.
You touched me, healed me - I let you touch me and heal me - so that when you drew close like a lover and whispered your desires for the earth, I didn’t get scared of you. Others had drawn close that way before and whispered terrible things. But you became Emmanuel to me, which was the way you always wanted to do this. It was never about intercession. It was about oneness.
Tasting this made it easy to desire for others, easy to grasp why it was your desire. Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! You enjoyed our oneness as much as I did. Let’s release it together, shall we?
Oh, but who am I to do that? It can be your desire, but how do I know that you want to partner with me to release it? Who gives me the right to do that? I know verses like Ephesians 2:6, that I am seated in heavenly places in you; I know John 15:7, that I can ask anything of Papa in your name if I abide in you. But somehow, just saying those verses isn’t enough to make me really believe. I kind of feel like I’m using you as a slot machine.
Oh, right, those verses are actually instructions. The authority to ask comes from abiding. I’m seated in you. Looks like it’s time to get to know you even better.
So I come back to the place where you are. We’re safe together now, and I don’t have any trauma-bound resistance in my heart. That means we can spend time together as friends. You enjoy my company. We’re not in a rush to accomplish things. I spend time marveling at your beauty. I see you in pastel sunrises splintered by dark, bare branches. I see you in the smiles of people who are 880 miles away. I hear you in their laughter. I taste you in lentil soup on a chilly afternoon. It’s like the more I see you in space, the more I see you in time, too - you lead me by the hand into our sweetest memories, reminiscing, building safety. And then we dream. I see you, taking up territory in hearts and land, extended out into the future.
You no longer call me a servant, because a servant doesn’t know her master’s business; you call me your friend, and you want me to know everything you’re up to. Everything you want to do. Intercession becomes a creative pursuit. I am your friend and we are painting reality together. Like you spoke, I now speak. I expect it to happen because I know who spoke it first. And the best part is, it’s all still a conversation. You didn’t send me out alone.
We are so close. And it’s only with the heart that one can see rightly. It changes everything. I no longer regard anyone according to the flesh. I call things that are not as though they are. I’m so intertwined with you that there’s simply no space for anyone to offend me. I am free to love. And somewhere in between my leaking love and my secret whispers to you, we change the world around us. Seeing not with our eyes, but with our heart.
“When one has struck some wonderful blessing that all mankind has a right to know about, no custom or false modesty should prevent him from telling it, even though it may mean the unbarring of his soul to the public gaze.
“I have found such a way of life. I ask nobody else to live it, or even to try it. I only witness that it is wonderful, it is indeed heaven on earth. And it is very simple, so simple that any child could practice it. Just to pray inwardly for everybody one meets, and to keep on all day without stopping, even when doing other work of every kind.
“This simple practice requires only a gentle pressure of the will, not more than a person can exert easily. It grows easier as the habit becomes fixed.
“Yet it transforms life into heaven. Everybody takes on aa new richness, and all the world seems tinted with glory. I do not of course know what others think of me, but the joy which i have within cannot be described. If there never were any other reward than that, it would more than justify the practice to me.”
Frank Laubach, Letters by a Modern Mystic