THE PRAYER I PRAYED WHEN GOD TOLD ME MY ENEMY WAS WEAK
The paper tiger has revealed his thinness. Dislocate his claws. Mock him to scorn, sweet Ruiner. Shatter his siege-works. Level his hoards with Your lava-breath. Come quickly and end him.
So this prayer finds me strengthened as my enemy drowns in living water.
Break his choking grip on the youth where we labor. Ruin the bonds of alcohol, drugs, perversion, and abuse. Be the Repairer and the Bringer of hot, hot hope. Set them free, teach them, and unleash them on a needy world like a wave of passion. Oh, I am so stupid for Revival!
And bring unity amongst the believers. Let us sit together at the banquet table set with Your Word and prayer. Let us major in the majors. For our divisions cause the enemies of God to blaspheme. Help to lay down bitterness and pain in the name of the progress of Your Name.
Move, Holy Ghost, in our Baptist churches…give them light freedom to fly. Move, my Jesus, in our Bible Chapels, break the fear of difference and bring joy. Move, El Shaddai, in our Assembly and Pentecostal friends, add Truth to Spirit. Move in our Methodists, help them breath fire like Wesley. Move, River of God, in our Covenant camps, bring the flow of simplicity and the beauty of continued Revival in the Spirit.
Bring the pastors and leaders to our knees. Train our bodies for war. Fit our armor on tight. Open the prayer closet door, throw us inside…let us not out until we can triumphantly emerge with a “Thus sayeth The Lord!!!” And let it be infectious. A zealous contagion. The marriage bed, and intimacy with Yahweh-Shuah.
Send Your fervent angelic, Father. May they come to slice and dice. Cut to pieces every blackened imp spit at this hamlet. Deliver this town back into Creator-hands. Rip what the ripper has stolen from his filthy paws. Devour the devourer. Loose resources and rob him of the spoils of war. Robin-Hood this stuff and dump it at the doorstep of the Church. Then give us wisdom.
And destroy distractions amongst Your people. We need pure minds and clean slates. Put us on the wheel. Mold. Shape. Mold. And pour into us and then pour of us.
Oh dear Lord, these things I pray…for I am made muscular today over my enemy’s acute weakness. I feel literally superhuman. Extra-ordinary. Potent-prayerful. A life-gone-torch.
So be my Fire!