When I look into the living room at our house, I often think about Sunday night prayer time. Every other Sunday night used to be the nights people from our church gathered at our house to pray. We consumed lots of coffee together, ate lots of dessert together, riled up our crazy dog together, shot the breeze together, and finally---prayed together.
People came and went to these meetings, but then there was the faithful group I like to call the regulars. Those regulars--they are very dear to me. The Sims, the Allans, the Barlows, the Cohns, Michelle and Bailey to name a few. A Jolley, a Pellowe, a Humphrey, a Pussel, a Pearl here or there.
These were sweet times in our living room.
On the surface you see worn out furniture and stained carpet...but it's the unseen that makes this room so special. The sweet aroma of prayers offered up to the throne room of grace, still lingering, still covering...
Sweet, faithful faces, life giving words and pleas--forever binding prayer warrior friends...
This is what I see when I look into this room.
The smoke of the incense, together with the prayers of the saints, went up before God from the angel’s hand. Rev. 8:4
May my prayer be set before you like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice. Psalm 141:2
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