find the forgotten

Nothing is really small, of course. But I've found myself spending time doing things small rather than big. The other day I had a young man over for dinner and some time in prayer. We listened to a message by Graham Cooke, an incredibly anointed speaker, and then spent some time afterward with the Lord Jesus. Tonight, at the moment, I'm alone, but I feel as though Jesus is speaking to me about my carpet...yeah, my carpet, that word keeps coming to me...I feel He wants me there, to put my face to it, and to put my knees to it and to see and feel and recognize the glory of God in Africa. Furthermore, I sense that He is wanting me to offer my house for prayer. I've done that, but I feel that I must do it more...Facilitating prayer is different here than U.S., most people are terrified at night due to the worlds greatest crime rate being SA, and then many don't own cars or have money for Petro (gas). So, often I feel as though rather than beginning a weekly thing that is super official, I just need to walk in fellowship with God and man, and bring those two things together.

So, I can't tell you I've done much yet, but I can say in these small things that are for a Big God, I feel like He is laying awfully good groundwork for His movement. I've had a group of teenagers over and we watched some missions videos, and some of these guys already state "man, I want to go and preach the Word of God." He is a good Father. I haven't had the easiest times of heart, it has been as though every day Satan gives me a vision that presents the path of stopping. Hey, Satan came to Jesus and even showed him the nations, eh? Sometimes I think he wants to distort my view of the nations, too, and get me to go down his path rather than the Word path.

So often I feel like the prayers of the saints are only inches for me. If your reading this and praying, thank you, you've helped me have a small taste of victory. Bless you all,
Nate

I'm not a poet, and I've never told people very much about what I've written. Yet there are times when I feel like God deserves a poem, as if speaking about Him with intellect is less than He deserves. So, here is one of my foolish attempts to please Him with less than He deserves, yet knowing that I only wish to give Daddy the truth in me, good, bad and ugly. This peom came to me in moments with the Holy Spirit, when I reflected on the poorest children in Africa that I was holding in my arms the other day...and I thought of the poverty moments of my spirit, and how it has only been Grace that makes me a father for Africa...really, this is for Him.

"You take the child
And bring him into Your army

You take the small one
And You make him tall

The heroes of God
Are those that are forgiven

Legacies are made
By the foolish found redeemed

We will tell our stories
We will bring forth our tales

Songs that evil is defeated
Poems that we are free

But the voice that gives praise
To You O King Christ Jesus

Is only a wave of air
From the lung of our soul

So with leaders from here
And a victorious battle there

A few found on our side
With lovely people giving hearts and blood

We are only expressing redemption
Even in our greatness

Children share the seat of the Holy One
We are Kings beside Him

We must remember the gift
And not forget the price"