“Woe to me!” I cried. “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.” (Isaiah 6:5) (NIV)
For the first time in the history of a city I dare not name, hundreds of Chinese Christians gathered in a secret location. House groups that had never met took turns leading prayers through the night.
With so many believers converging at one time, the risk of a police raid was high. Consequently, there were no lukewarm Christians present, only those who valued this unified worship more than freedom.
Well into the night, the Holy Spirit filled the large room. Some lay face down, some wept, nearly everybody raised their arms. As the only Westerner, I couldn’t understand the urgent prayers, but the words didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except Jesus. I was undone.
My wife knits. One time she used the angora yarn from one of her completed projects for something different. Row by row, she pulled the yellow threads out of a sweater that had taken weeks to create. In the underground gathering, I felt like that sweater. The presence of Jesus pulled my life apart, row by row. My past opened up. My place in society lost relevance.
More than a one-off encounter, I must learn to live undone. I will, of course, be undone at the judgment seat. But today I need my vanities and the popularity I seek to unravel so the Lord can make me into something new.
Prayer: King of Kings, help me to live undone before you.