Leaks, sinks, and everyday freaks

Once upon a time there were two young women, who moved into an apartment. They spent endless hours decorating, cleaning and re-dressing the space in order to make it there own. They were happy there, for a time . . . and then it began.

A roach here, a roach there, little creatures everywhere.
Roaches, water-bugs (same thing) and spiders began to surface. Displaying their ugly antenna’s around corners and under cushions. So, the two rather girly-girls grasped their cell phones and yelped for the Orrick man. After a few toxic squirts the problem was solved. Life back to normal . . . or so they thought.

A quiet nesting from within.
Ever so soft, it began. Scratch, scratch. .shuffle, scurry. .scratch. Lying, in bed one fated night, one of the fair maidens realizes she is not alone. Something is moving, chewing and pulling on the inside of her walls. The noise begins in the far corner, makes a hurried jaunt through the wall and ends up behind her head. Oh, the misery, there will be no sleep tonight. After, an ill attempt at ignoring the creatures she once again retrieves her cell and makes the call. The rats must go. After a long awaited visit, silence reigns once more. .yet peace will not prevail.

The ever irksome leakage.
After the beginning of a rather normal autumn, the people in the village are surprised as the weather takes a devious turn. Pouring forth from the sky, rain. rain never ceasing rain. The torrents increase and exist for weeks on end. At the onset of this luckless weather, our females find themselves with a peculiar problem. The rain (an outdoor affecter) has made its way inside. Seeping from the ceiling in several inconvenient locations it destroys furniture, happiness and rest. Be assured the telephones were ringing that day. Two weeks of sofa sleepage for one of our unfortunate heroines is the reward. The appearance of the sun brings the roofers and her salvation...or so she thought.

The ever irksome leakage no.2
Weeks pass with not but minor problems, then one day lightening slices through foreboding clouds. The rains begin...again. Our mystic maidens are not alarmed, for their roof is assuredly sound. Correct? Traipsing off to work that day, their cares are left behind. Arrival home, mid-afternoon, robs them of their bliss. The cursed lady no.1 enters her abode of rest to find blood-tinted liquid oozing through her rather porous ceiling. Drizzling down it found its way to her bed linens, spooling them from future usage. In righteous anger she makes her way to the house of management. The ever-apologetic care-takers assure her of immediate change. She goes home, satisfied that muck and mire are behind her. . .an incorrect assumption.

THE EVER ERKSOME LEAKAGE NO.3
One more week on the sofa and our lass has found her way back to her bedroom. Sad, but true, it is a short visit. Yet, a mere two weeks hence the heavenlies pour forth once more, inside and out. The final straw has been broken as the amber tint covers a favorite lamp shade. In wild abandonment she carries the soiled accessory and storms to the office. She is greeted by yet another new manager whom she quickly informs of her plight. Apologies are made, facts realized and action taken. The damage has already been done, for in the week of respite from the leak another evil ran amuck.

Drip, Drip, Drop.
Ah, yes, there is a rumor of tactics employed by the Chinese of ancient times to torment their offenders. It was as simple as. .a dripping faucet. Oh, but how this can grate and offend when it is present in your own home. Unhappily, it is the most recent trial of the woman of woe. A bathroom faucet, begins with a slight, inconsistent drip and becomes a rushing river that cannot be silenced. Try as she might the Fated one cannot put an end to the steaming waterfall. Calling for assistance they inform her that, four more nights on the couch will secure her a new sink and the finality of the persistent trickle.

Does peace reign? Will her troubles have finally reached their apex? Will rest become her friend once again?

There is no answer to these queries, simply hope.

A very small taste. . .

Silence. . . 11,500 voices. . . in silence.

Then slowly, from one corner of the crescent shaped room a voice is heard singing. . .softly, sweetly.

"I love you Lord and I lift my voice, to worship You. ."

5 voices singing. . ."oh, my soul, rejoice. . "
50 voices join in. . "take joy my King. . ."
200, 500, 3,000 voices. . ."in what You hear. ."

By this time the song has crept halfway around the arena. .gentle, unaccompanied voices. .

6,000, 8,000. . "may it be a sweet, sweet sound. . "
10,000, 11,500. . "in Your ear."

And then it begins again, in full force, all 11,500 voices joined in one emotion exaltation to our King.

"I love You Lord. .".

I share a memory of a sweet moment in the presence of the Lord, with thousands. The precious intimacy with Jesus at that moment was indescribable. Worship was propelled by the Holy Spirit, and we all received a little taste of Heaven.

Where was I? Passion Conference 1999. I can't describe it. I can't put a container around what the power of Christ does in an environment like that. All I can say is, amazing, life changing. . .Don't miss out.
Passion'05 is in Nashville, TN this year. If you get a chance you should go. If you are older than 26 or so, then go as a leader or a volunteer. If your interested check out the web site:

One more question...were you there in '99? And if so, do you remember that moment?