Gathering kindling for our morning fire, I shake off the vipers of pride, fear, mediocrity, & carnality of all kinds hiding among the wood, hay, & stubble of this landscape. They're fragrant fire fodder for God’s liking.
And to Him I draw dangerously close, stoking these morning embers to a blaze, till it burns with love, obedience, & mission all the long day.
Stepping out the door, feet on foreign soil, my mission clear, singular, certain.
Moving forward out into the deep of this day, with the subversive agenda of a pyromaniac: Stay close. Love well. Start fires. Steal from Satan’s domain.
There in that certainty of staying, & loving, & starting, & stealing, I add my own unscripted missional refrain, an added mandate; Fill…. fill every space I travel, fill it thick, fill it thick with worship.