Get Lost

I sometimes find myself getting up to write. Oftentimes I'm in bed when the message to get up arrives. It's Jesus---at least I think it's Jesus, but it could be the Holy Spirit. Anyway, I go down to the first floor and get out my "prayer journal" to write in. I don't really have a prayer journal, but it's a much easier description than the real one. The genuine book is one I purchased at Barnes&Noble when I filled up its predecessor. It's actually a sketchbook and designed for drawing on pages you can remove along the perforations. Sometimes I do almost all the talking. Sometimes I do almost all the listening. Other times, a prayer just escapes onto the page.

Escape is precisely the correct word. I don't know what's going to come out when I write, except for the first few words. Often I repeat myself within what I write, asking for something or stating something multiple times. I'm doing something like that right now. I didn't start out writing this quickly but now the words are there and they are escaping, they're chasing for the exit, they WANT OUT. Who am I to refuse? So when I receive one of those prods to get up and write to Him, for Him, because of Him, I do it. And now I think that writing these things down is a sort of lesson in itself. I almost have it---yes! If I write it down, it becomes real for me. I might forget what I read or hear, but I can always go reread my words. So, even if my words aren't coming from me, but from Jesus, I am assured that what I write is important. And it's all mine; no one can take it away from me, just as no one can separate me from my Lord. And that's one more reason I know He loves me, because so many others have limited me before. But not Him. Because in His love for me, He gives me something that cannot be forgotten--- my own words. What a fine and beautiful gift that is.