A Prayer Request...

We have this ability to stare in the face of a miracle and be unimpressed. The sun rises, babies are born, and we are unmoved. The citizens of Heaven are astounded at our hardened hearts. Sometimes we need God Himself to draw us closer to the miracle so that we see it for what it is. Then we watch the colors unfold into day, we witness the birth of our child. Then we are made new.

Every conversion is a miracle. It is God moving and acting in the life of someone. It is extraordinary. It is also common. We take it for granted because God asks everyone to convert from our ordinary lives to one of uncommon love. He touches every heart with his invitation to get to know Him better. So few answer.

We are so busy. We are so proud. We have more important things to do than wonder at a sunrise. We are astonishingly dense in that way.

Even the converted must be converted almost daily.

So pray. Pray and pray. Let us not be lazy in this. Let us not be selfish or stingy in this. Pray hard.

The whole world needs it. It happens every day. It is a commonplace miracle and yet every once in a while God will use an ordinary person in an unusual way to unveil a bit of the truth. He uses dramatic conversions like mine to point out that every conversion, even the quiet but certain whispers of the soul, are the result of God's finger gently turning our chin and saying, "Look, little one." 

Pray that we look, that we see and are amazed. But pray, more importantly, that we remember in that moment to thank Him. 

You who know God have a duty to those of us who do not. You know the warmth and light of the dawn. You've seen it with your own eyes, felt it in your own heart. Don't forget us out here in the cold. The dawn is coming, but we insist on staring into the darkness because we have turned our back on the light. Pray that a finger of light will break over our heads and draw our attention to the glory and the spectacle that is taking place. Pray that we notice somehow that even in our darkness, He has placed stars.