A Syrian refugee..

Sometime I am numb to the news.

Bombarded with story after story, atrocity after atrocity, image upon image. What will it take to cut through flack that my heart would be moved?

I know this isn’t the case with all of us, and there are many initiatives that have been birthed from a heart that has been moved.

Nehemiah is one who was moved, not by what he saw, but by what he heard. The news came to him that the walls of Jerusalem were in disrepair. He was so troubled by the news that he begun a period of mourning, prayer, fasting and inquiry of the Lord as to what he should do. From this moving of his heart he received favour to go to Jerusalem and oversee the rebuilding of the walls and the gathering of the people. He was a forerunner revivalist.

God moves on the hearts of His people, He is looking for those who will respond to Him, who will be feel as He feels. Nehemiah was one such man. He is looking again for those who will be sensitive to the whisper of heaven, who hear the cries of the lost.

I thank God for modern communication and the technology that we have, but I am aware that with it there can be an overloading of our senses and an over familiarity with scenes of distress. My prayer is that my heart would be sensitive to His, that like Nehemiah I would be moved to action by what I hear and see.

One such moment recently came, still embryonic yet fresh in my heart.

Whilst listening the radio on an hour or so journey I heard a news report about a Syrian refugee who had walked over a thousand miles with his grandmother. She was in a wheelchair for the first part of the journey and for the latter part he had to carry her. He was 18 years old.

I have heard report after report and have prayed, but if I am honest I have not felt that much. But this story caught me. And I was overwhelmed with emotion for this young man. What does it mean? I don’t know. But I am praying. What struck me was how hard my heart was and how much I was moved by this story, a contrasting moment.

It reminded me how much I love to feel what my Father in heaven feels. And that means spending time with Him, closing the door to that which I know grieves His heart and positioning myself to hear, see and feel what He wants me to. It is the breath of the Spirit that refreshes my soul and keeps me alive, even if the breath is unto mourning.

Lord let us be moved by what is happening around us, moved to action, moved to prayer moved to speak out, forerunners of your coming revival.

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