Our beloved Father

Please come down and meet us

We are waiting on Your touch

Open up the heavens

Shower down Your presence

We respond to Your great love

We won’t be satisfied

With anything ordinary

We won’t be satisfied at all

Open up the sky

Fall down the like rain

We don’t want blessings

We want You

Fall down like fire

We don’t want anything but You

Our beloved Jesus

We just want to see You

In the glory of Your light

Earthly things don’t matter

They just fade and shatter

When we’re touched by Love Divine

Here we go, let’s go to the Throne

The place that we belong

Right into His arms

I first heard this song in February of 2009. Right away, from the first chorus, it rang true with my heart. I was in the midst of a difficult, dark season. The Lord had stripped from me some things, activities, positions that I had thought were essential to my very being. As in every move He makes, He was very right and I was very wrong. He took those things from me in order to force me - it was a tender and loving force, but it was, most certainly, forceable - to force me to find my identity in Him rather than the things I did.

Ouch.

“We won’t be satisfied with anything ordinary, we won’t be satisfied at all.”

The very first time I read those lyrics I understood why I was willingly walking through that time with the Lord, instead of pushing through life as it had been. I don’t want life. I want LIFE - life abundant, life adventurous, life loud and life joyful. And, even if I didn’t understand what was going on at the time, I trusted the God who promised me these things.

That said, the Lord blessed my struggling, bumbling faithfulness to follow and let go of the things I loved - the things I had previously thought identified me - and returned them in ways I can’t even express. God is good, my friends, He is good.

As 2009 came to a close, I knew deep down that 2010 was going to be a big year for me and the Lord. Bigger even, if it was possible, than the early months of 2009. This fact was clear to me in the part of my heart that I now know is where the Lord speaks to me, then it was just a settled truth in my spirit. And I knew it with more resolution every time I sang this song.

Now, for as much as I knew that things were going to change in 2010, that the Lord would be new and real to me, I could never have expected it to happen so quickly or so profoundly. It’s only March, and the beginning of March at that. But, already, I know that my relationship with the Lord will never be what it was - there’s no going back.

You see, this year I have embarked on a journey of prayer that I merely flirted with last summer - a journey of prayer, communion and community with the Lord that can’t be adequately explained without personal experience.

Listening prayer is just that - asking the Lord and...are you ready for this? - actually listening for the answer.

Whoa.

Earth-shattering, I know.

God speaks, my friends. He does. He speaks to us each in different ways. For me, it’s in pictures. I see things - I hesitate to call them visions, but pictures. Even if the Lord is just giving me a word, which He often does for me, I see it in some sort of calligraphy. And, I love it.

I love how so often, when I inquire of the Lord, He so very quickly answers me...almost as if He’s actually eager to talk to me. Oh, but wait, He is! (Proverbs 1:23) Why - why!? - was I never taught this before? Most times, He is answering before I can even get the question out. It both calms and excites my heart to know that He is waiting...no...longing for me to be quiet and still enough for Him to answer.

Listening prayer is every bit as simple as it is complex. There is beauty in the expression and peace in the revelation. God is good - He loves - and He gives what we need and what we can handle in the moment and never yet have I discovered something I had expected.

Freedom. Power. Beauty. Art. Boldness. Truth. All things I’ve found in listening prayer. Not things I’ve received or been given. I already had them. And, the Lord has so graciously and gently shown me that they were already there, I just needed to access them, live in them, walk in them. All of these have changed the way I think, the way I speak and, most amazingly, the way I pray.

“Here we go, let’s go to the throne, the place where we belong, right into His arms.”

Prayer now, for me, isn’t just an act of attempting to defy gravity. I’m not tossing my concerns up to the sky and hoping they break through the atmosphere and make it to the ear of the Lord. No. Now, I walk into the throne room of the King of Kings, crawl in His lap and have a chat with my Dad. Because I’ve heard Him answer, I know that He cares for the concerns of my heart. He wants to hear, and He longs to answer.

.”Our beloved Jesus, we just want to see You, in the glory of Your light.”

I heard this song today for the first time in a while. It has become my anthem for 2010, and I do think of it often, but I hadn’t listened to it in it’s entirety for a few weeks. It serves as such a sweet reminder of where I was a year ago and where the Lord has brought me since. I’ve learned obedience and patience. I’ve learned to sit and to listen. To really listen. To listen to what He says to me and about me - not just to what I want to hear or think He says.

In learning to sit and to listen I’ve learned that He loves ME. That He loves me for me - for who I am and who He created me to be. I’ve learned that, if I am willing to sit and listen and act on what I hear, that I will become more of who He created me to be than I ever have been - or ever will be by fighting and pushing on my own.

This lesson of listening and knowing and curling up in His lap, this will go with me forever. This isn’t one of those lessons that I learn and remember for a while and then need to be reminded of again and again. No, this one is resolute. The more I hear from Him, the more I long to hear from Him. The more I hear His voice, the more excited I am for the next time I can sit and listen.

He speaks, my friends. He speaks. Just listen. You’ll be blown away. And, I assure you, you won’t find anything ordinary.