taken outside TGV Sydney

Each time you use the anointing oil, this is what you are saying: “I am set apart by God.” This is not an empty statement, nor an archaic ritual that has no place in the present day. Just as the holy communion – Jesus’ broken body and shed blood – represents our wholeness in the physical and spiritual, the anointing oil is the power of the Holy Spirit that is enabled in and through us.

David in 1 Samuel 6:13 was anointed by the prophet in front of the brothers who scorned him, before the father who thought so little of him, and as the oil was applied on the shepherd boy, the Spirit rushed upon him in power.

The anointing of oil is a declaration: you are set apart, unto God, made holy by the abundant grace of the gift of Jesus Christ who died on that cross at Calvary for our salvation. And that gift is made manifest through the working of the Holy Spirit. Chains are broken. The sick are healed. Yokes lifted. Broken lives and hearts restored unto God’s perfection. Life breathed into dead bones. Standing unscathed in the fiery furnace. Undevourable even in the lions’ den.

This is the ancient truth, alive as it was two thousand years ago. We can walk in power, authority and freedom as priests and kings, simply because of the incomprehensible grace of the God who loved us so completely, without measure, that He sent his only Son to die for our sake.

If the last few days have been something not unlike curling into a ball on the floor and crying out to You, choking out prayer in between sobs and barely intelligible words, then tonight comes to the point where it is only about being thankful.

Michael Gungor’s aural poetry is nothing if but ascendant: glorious traversals into the supernatural, lifting hands and sight towards heaven to see You, both mighty and radiant. Paul on that Damascus-bound road was blinded, and tonight I am left in awe and in worship.

You are still good. Always good. And You show me that it’s more than everything being about me, or keeping up appearances. If it means risking everything and losing it all, and if that is what it takes for me to learn and grow, then I’ll do it.

There’s nowhere else to go but up.

Listening to ZK and Reen over bad Chinatown food share about their current journeys made me realise how similar the situations we are all in. Refining can be painful, and the sight of your own failing flesh can be a fresh jolt back into Your light and truth, but it is necessary. As they spoke it was as if You were telling me, “You’re not alone in this. I’ve got you.”; and then there was no need for any words on my part, as I walked away feeling filled to the brim and with a grin beaming widely on my face.

You show me that there can even be elegance in simplicity. I was never one for the impassioned, pulling-heartstrings sort of sharing; I may never be, always tripping over the words and the inadequacies of language to fully describe whatever You have planted in my heart. I always wonder how some people do it so easily, to speak and share and with the Spirit moving so powerfully; Your voice comes to me soft, quiet and uninstrusive, tinged with love, always bringing me full circle back again to Your heart for me.

To me, there is nothing else that matters. Everything in the world pales in comparison to You, the beauty and the glory and all the things contained in the cross. Let my eyes be unveiled to perceive more of the entirety of who You are; enlarge my heart to receive more of what You have already given; let the love so freely poured out at Calvary overflow from mine; let me walk in the power of my Helper, the Holy Spirit; let me bear witness to Your name as Jesus is glorified in every aspect of my life!

“Some men are dogs. Others are wolves. But also there are lions.”
- Victor Gischler

So much has been said or written of Christopher McCandless’s foray into the Alaskan wilderness. Was he too cocksure, too arrogant, too lacking of common sense, or just plain stupid? Who would give away $24,000 of his savings, burn the money in his wallet, and then march into the Last Frontier with nothing more than a ratty old map, basic hunting and camping gear, five kilograms of rice and a book on plantlore?

Maybe it’s that unnamed, primeval call in a man’s heart that draws him to the great unknown, to test himself against nature’s untameable force, to pit his wits and guile and strength against the elements; a journey with no destination other than to quell that cry from within.

Did Peter quaver at the roiling waves, the storm that blew dark and angry over the sea before him? Did he wonder, “How am I supposed to do this?” when Jesus called him? I’m sure he did, whenever he stared at his powerless hands and feet, each crack of thunder sending tremors of fear coursing up his spine. But when he turned his eyes upon his Lord, eyes so warm and unafraid, Peter must have felt that same fear melt away from his body. And he walked on water.

So if it means that I have to go through these new tests, the breaking, finding my self inadequate and unable, then so be it. Let there be nothing but total and complete surrender in this season of learning how to die.

I’ll be made new in You.

How do I even begin writing about the Hillsong Conference? It’s been two, three days since I got back from Sydney, albeit with a running fever, chills, runny nose, sore throat and cough but each time I pause to consider the depth and height and breadth of Your presence throughout the entire trip You leave me speechless in gratitude.

You truly are amazing.

Now it’s back home again, with bigger mountains than ever, with more uncertainty in my life than I’ve ever experienced in a long time. It’s not disillusionment, nor spiritual fatigue; it’s a fierce desire and hunger to be shown than whatever You have declared in Your word, all of the promises made to Abraham and his seed, the mountain-moving faith, the authority that breathes life into the dead and broken things, the power of the Spirit moving in divine symmetry with the righteous man who speaks..

So show me the God who rides the ancient skies, the same God whose Love is better than life; You can break all these worthless little towers of confidence crafted from my own flesh, to be rebuilt again in Your grace and fire.

This is my cry: show Yourself real in my life. Not just now, but forever. Because there is nothing else in the world that matters as much as having You, living and breathing through me. And I can’t have it any other way except by Your way.