On the wall

I wrote a song not long ago - sorry I don't have a high-tech (or even low tech) way to let you hear it here, but it goes like this:

Come take your place upon the wall
See your enemy draws near
Come take your place upon the wall
Follow hard and do not fear
You've neglected it too long
And now the time has come
Build me a stone wall

It was inspired by a couple sermons preached by Lou Engle and Tammy Riddering, which were in turn inspired by Nehemiah, regarding the rebuilding of the walls of Jerusalem after the exiles returned from Babylon. But they were preaching about prayer, building a wall of prayer.

It struck me yesterday, why I am so pumped about my little night watch. I'm part of this Moravian Night Watch. And I have found my way to the 2 or 3 a.m. slot. I tried doing the late night positions, but that meant staying up really late. By doing the middle of the night, I go to sleep when I'm tired, wake up to pray, and go back to sleep.

But none of those things is easy. Going to sleep isn't always easy - I'm kind of a night owl, and sometimes there is too much to do, my head buzzing.

I'm a light sleeper, so waking up is not hard, but waking up enough to pray and read my Bible without nodding off, and with any sense of actually communing with God, well, that's a different story. I am often numb for the first half hour of my watch.

I've gotten very creative about finding ways to stay awake. When it was hot out I would take a cold shower for most of it, 'cept you can't have a Bible in the shower. Standing, walking, marching in place, dancing. Mostly I do things like scrub my kitchen floor, match socks, iron shirts, and my favorite, the one most likely to really wake me up - process dirty cloth diapers. I can frequently be found at 2:20 in the morning sitting in my kids bathroom with one hand on my Bible and my other in the toilet, cleaning poop off a bumgenius before I wash it.

What do I pray about, with my hand swirling in poo? Whatever the Lord brings to mind. I pray for our nation and its leader, for leaders in my church, in our house of prayer, in my city. I pray for Israel, for the peace of Jerusalem. I pray for Muslims to have dreams and visions about Jesus, and to learn what a wonderful Father God is. I pray for prodigals who have walked away to come home and find Him waiting for them. I pray for the unborn to have life and for the next generation to have their life in Him. I wage war, tear down strongholds, rebuke demons. I also hear the voice of my Beloved, loving me.

And so by the end of my watch, I'm wide awake. And going back to sleep is almost as challenging as waking up was.

Don't be impressed. Like I said, it is often numb, difficult, weak, fumbling. Often, I have the fervency of a stone.

But that's what I'm so excited about. I am a stone. A living stone on the wall. I don't have to be impressive. Stones seldom are. I'm just there, part of the wall. I'm one of many. But I'm there, showing up.

And after years of longing to be part of the house of prayer, the global prayer movement, which I love, partnering with the Lord to bring His glory here - I'm doing it! I'm on the wall, in my obscure, stinky, middle of the night fashion.

And there has been grace for this. I am eating and living healthier, but I can say that I am not just exhausted all the time. I am okay. I'm not falling asleep during school, not tired when driving, not losing my temper with my children, not acting despondent and hopeless with my husband (all normal exhausted-me symptoms). I may be even thriving. Not for amazingness. Just for love.

I love that each night I have a weak, unimpressive, half-asleep date with the Lover of my soul. And I love that as a mom of many, I still get to be part of the night warriors taking the kingdom by force in prayer.