When I stand up I can feel the blood drain from my head to my feet and the room spins. My knees are shaking and the pins and needles cause me to wonder how long I was down. Maybe an hour, maybe only minutes. Likely minutes. It doesn't take long for nothing to be the same.
I saw him for the first time as a spirit today, not as a young man stranger, but as a small child spirit, lost. I see his grey garments and his eyes look the same way they looked when he was small, when his lip would quiver and his eyes would fill with tears. I remember when a bee stung his lip and his tears broke my heart and at 9 years old I could not hold my heart together if his was breaking. What has happened to my heart? Now that he looks stronger and speaks harsh words and frustrates my flesh have I lost all compassion? Why now does his broken heart not break mine?
I am suddenly overwhelmed with how small he is. I see him outside the walls of Zion and all his defenses are laid down, I see him now as the 3 year old child and my heart aches to remember it all. In his grey shorts and t-shirt I am suddenly so aware of the white garment I am clothed in. His aimless wandering, and hopeless stare is making my salvation beam and the contrast breaks my heart. The teenage hardened heart, and adolescent-anger fade away and I see now a broken child. Friendless, lifeless, Fatherless. How can this small boy, this little child be left alone here? Who walked away from him, what is he doing here all alone, it isn't safe! I am filled with questions and somewhere in my heart I know I am among those to blame for his helpless state. Maybe this guilt inside is what has manifested as physical heaviness keeping me on my knees for his soul. All I know is this is dangerous ground, a battlefield, and this child is defenseless. I hear those words again "I looked for a man who would build up the wall and stand before Me in the gap on behalf of the land.". Intercession.
I am brought back to last week when I myself felt like the small boy in grey. Your grace brought me back to the cross, my pride had swelled and you in all your mercy caused me to repent. The week of darkness opened my eyes again to the reality of your justice, your law, and your saving grace. How am I now clothed in glory when last week I felt so cast off, sinful, and unable to approach the throne. Now here I am boldly at the throne of grace where I cry out with a conviction and confidence that is entirely new, the result of an assurance that only comes from the blood of the Lamb. I feel now for certain that you brought me low to save me from my flesh, my pride, myself and you brought me low, tore me open, broke me down, so that you could raise me up to this new place where I can be heard by you, for him. All is grace. Your grace over me, and your grace over him, the small white haired boy.
I remember how I stood in the same place as him once too and you bring me back to the agony and the feelings of abandonment, feelings of utter disappointment, and loneliness. The same things that broke my heart and alienated me from any sense of family are his scars too. Am I so selfish and blind to the fact that he too has been ripped apart by the inadequacy of the world, the drawn out throbbing caused by divorce, and the loneliness of being tossed between two worlds, torn by the waves of inconsistency.Why have I failed to see that this boy I aged with is also broken hearted and scarred like me? Have I like everyone else let his mask fool me? He may be a better faker than me, but he too is deeply wounded.
I see now the shadow of a boy is wandering and the paths that surround him all look the same. They are all wide and grey. There is one path though that is golden light and narrow. The boy longs to go there, the golden light calls him. I am outraged to see a man in black seated at the fork in the road trying to cause the lost boy to take another way. I label the dark man as fear and I hate him. I come against him and the Name causes him to pack up and leave but he wanders still outside the gates. He waits to steal, kill and destroy this boy and I cannot sit still. Oh Great Shepherd, come in power! He wanders and prowls and sneaks around waiting to act. How will this boy ever survive?
If I, clothed in salvation and truth and grace, still get caught and fooled by the Adversary, if I in my white garment, aware of the armor I hold, still fall into darkness and defeat, how much more danger is the darkness to this boy? In the spirit I stand up before the throne, I cry out for his protection, for someone in heaven to stand guard on his behalf. I know until the boy enters the city gates he is not safe. His grey clothing does nothing to protect him and he doesn't know the Name that has the power to save. I am troubled now by his vulnerability and You know this, your purpose hits me like a punch in my gut. You confirm in the Book what has just happened in the Spirit.
"For Zion's sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem's sake I will not be quiet, until her righteousness goes forth as brightness, and her salvation as a burning torch.... On your walls, O Jerusalem, I have set watchmen; all the day and all the night they shall never be silent. You who put the LORD in remembrance, take no rest, and give him no rest until he establishes Jerusalem and makes it a praise in the earth... And they shall be called The Holy People, The Redeemed of the LORD, Sought Out, A City Not Forsaken. Isaiah 62."
I tremble now at the throne. You brought me low, you lifted me up, and I open my eyes and see I am not the center. You open my eyes to the lost, the wanderers. And this small child, this precious boy, is now added to those entrusted to us who believe, and maybe only to me.
The immense responsibility feels like a burden that goes past my free will but I remember asking for this. For you to lay on my heart a burden for the lost and broken. I had no idea. I did not know the burden would be so real, so crippling, and that the lost would be someone in my own house. My child brother, my own blood. I have special authority here, I have been entrusted with much.
I will give you no rest Lord. You have bound the weight of his soul to mine, and for his sake I cannot be silent, until his salvation goes forth like a burning torch. I stand now in the gap, in the gap where the walls of Zion divide two kingdoms, the gap between the throne and the boy, darkness prowls for a while longer. I rest assured that The Day is coming and darkness will be thrown down into fire, but now, I stand guard. My weapons are mighty in you and this small boy is dead. I fight for his life with my own.
Rejoice oh my soul and have faith, this boy too will be met at the gates by the Shepherd, He will be called Sought Out. His salvation will burn like a torch. The Redeemed are crying out, the harvest is ready, and the intercessors are rising to fight for the advance of the Kingdom. Our hearts are marked by brokenness and we pray connected to the One who cries out continually on our behalf, the only One who really loves the golden haired boy enough to die for his soul.
Martina Sobey
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