Every morning, I wake up and lift my heart to God in prayer.
I praise Him for His glory and goodness.
I surrender my agenda and expectations to His greater kingdom purposes.
I yield my desires to do His will.
And, then I ask for Him to move a mountain.
I cry out to Him for that mountain to crumble.
I believe that God is bigger than any obstacle or stronghold.
Yet, my mountain remains — immovable and unyielding.
Do you have a mountain? I bet you do.
Like me, you may be discouraged by the darkness that looms large in your view.
You aren’t alone.
If we sat down today in my kitchen and shared our stories, I bet we would see similarities.
That’s exactly what happened to my husband and I just a few months ago. Our dear friends showed up to grieve with us in our valley. They listened to our heartache, and they didn’t try to fix us. They didn’t pretend that they had it all together either. They shared about their own mess, and then we decided to invite someone else into the conversation.
Four hearts bowed together in front of an altar aflame.
Together, we asked God to move two mountains.
With worshipful hearts, we cried out to Him for those mountains to crumble.
We prayed big for a breakthrough.
In the Old Testament when David faced defeat and discouragement, he continually lifted up empty hands to heaven and cried out for mercy.
Why do we think that we can’t do the same? God delights when we confess our need for Him. He sees your trembling heart full of love that is holding fast to His promises.
He sees you.
Your prayers are a sweet aroma of sacrifice that rises straight to the heart of the King of Kings.
One glorious day, He will thunder down and crumble your mountain.
“May my prayer be set before You like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice.”
Psalm 142:2, NIV