It's Late. No, It's Early..

I can't sleep. And I am heavy laden with the burden of my sin. At first it was dismissible; the usual guilt, then I swept it into the dark of my mind. I sank into bed, and my mind began to race. I sat with my eyes open for close to an hour in the black of my room. The only light came from the moon half-covered by trees. But it was light enough to see. I thought about the state of the Church. I want to be careful, but I don't know from whom these thoughts flowed. But flow they did. What I saw, (I was not dreaming) was the pulpit, myself behind it, in a building not unlike my church. I felt as I do now; tired, but restless. I began to preach. It was not condemnation. Nor rebuke. It was an encouragement, or at least I hoped. It was a plea for reform. For revival.

I remember a dream I had a long time ago about a church I was to build. The details, being fuzzy, do not matter here, but I was hindered from erecting the building. There was God, not in any form that I can recall, nor in any audible message, but He instilled in me the knowledge of His plan. I was to overcome. That was the dream. I don't know what it means but right now that's all I can think of. That dream and this weighty all-nighter I find myself in.

I suppose I will not forget what the message and main points of the sermon I preached tonight on were. Nor the scripture I quoted. But for now I will spare you the read. Perhaps, however, I will at least outline my thoughts in future posts. I do not believe that it will be any divine revelation to anyone, or anything new, for that matter. But I suppose I ought to practice diligence in writing and grammar, and voice my thoughts on the matter of Christian radicalism.

I think I can sleep now.