Good afternoon, brothers and sisters.
Please turn with me to Genesis 48. We will begin in Genesis 48:15. This is speaking of Israel:
And he blessed Joseph, and said,
The God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac did walk,
The God who hath been my shepherd all my life long unto this day.
Then turn back to Genesis 46 and read verses 1 through 5:
And Israel took his journey with all that he had, and came to Beer-sheba, and offered sacrifices unto the God of his father Isaac.
And God spake unto Israel in the visions of the night, and said, Jacob, Jacob. And he said, Here am I.
And he said, I am God, the God of thy father: fear not to go down into Egypt; for I will there make of thee a great nation:
I will go down with thee into Egypt; and I will also surely bring thee up again: and Joseph shall put his hand upon thine eyes.
And Jacob rose up from Beer-sheba: and the sons of Israel carried Jacob their father, and their little ones, and their wives, in the wagons which Pharaoh had sent to carry him.
And then Genesis 47:29:
And the time drew near that Israel must die: and he called his son Joseph, and said unto him, If now I have found favor in thy sight, put, I pray thee, thy hand under my thigh, and deal kindly and truly with me; bury me not, I pray thee, in Egypt:
But when I sleep with my fathers, thou shalt carry me out of Egypt, and bury me in their burying-place. And he said, I will do as thou hast said.
And he said, Swear unto me. And he sware unto him. And Israel bowed himself upon the bed’s head.
Finally, Hebrews 11:21:
By faith Jacob, when he was dying, blessed each of the sons of Joseph; and worshipped, leaning upon the top of his staff.
Let us bow for a word of prayer.
Lord, we are so thankful to You for Your faithfulness to us. Now, Lord, this afternoon we commit ourselves again before You, thanking You that we know Your great presence is among us. Our hearts bow before You.
Lord, we thank You for Your precious Word. We pray that You might use it to break through into our hearts. Please protect Your Word. Please give it a spark of Your life, so that we can sense the things that You are trying to show us.
Lord, be glorified and honored among us. We worship You. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.
Brothers and sisters, in the old temple in Israel, there was one place where it was really loud. It was the loudest room in the temple. Ordinarily, we would believe that a temple should be fairly quiet, but there was one room where there was constant crying.
It was because, on the eighth day, parents would bring their children to offer them to the Lord in the temple. So that would be the room where, if you really liked peace and quiet, you probably would not want to go. Many little babies doing what babies do best.
It was in this place, one day, that an old man named Simeon came. Simeon had been promised that he would not die until he saw the Lord’s Messiah. This was Simeon’s purpose and calling in life.
One day the Spirit came upon him, and he entered this place where the children were being offered. He saw a young woman, Mary, and her husband, Joseph. They came in with a baby—assuming, within normal limits, somewhere less than ten pounds.
Simeon took the baby, looked into His face, and said to the Lord:
Now lettest thou thy servant depart, Lord,
According to thy word, in peace;
For mine eyes have seen thy salvation.
The miracle of this, brothers and sisters, is that this was not supposed to happen. We know from the Bible that no mortal man—no sinner—could lay eyes on God and live. Simeon had been promised something impossible: that his physical eyes would see the Messiah.
We remember when Moses asked the Lord if he could see His face. The Lord said, “You cannot see Me; otherwise you will die.” We remember the high priests: a wrong thought or a lack of preparation in the presence of God, and they would die.
For folks like you and me, prior to our being so miraculously saved, we had no worthiness to come into the presence of God, much less to say that we could lay our eyes upon Him. But old Simeon held this little baby, and his eyes fell upon Him. He could say, “Now I can leave in peace, because my eyes have seen Your salvation.”
What had happened was a miracle. It was in the heart of the Lord that He was going to make this miracle available to all His people through a wonderful, miraculous work.
The baby grew up, and He became a man. As Dana shared yesterday, all those who laid eyes on Him saw what a man was supposed to be. They saw Him perfect in His strength and in His kindness—how approachable He was, how transparent He was.
The children came to Him. Sinners came to Him. Lepers called His name. The blind came. No one felt that they could not approach Him. They could lay their eyes on Him, and they would not die.
When He first came, Philip saw Him. Philip ran and found his friend Nathanael and said, “I have found the Messiah.” Nathanael asked, “How did you know? How could this be?” Philip said, “Come and see.” Nathanael did, and he laid eyes on Him and believed.
The Gospel of John tells us:
No man hath seen God at any time;
The only begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father,
He hath declared him.
In the life of this man, the Lord Jesus, our Father revealed Himself to us. The death that it would have been for our fleshly eyes to fall upon God no longer was. In fact, it was the opposite: our eyes fell upon Him, and we found our salvation.
Brothers and sisters, it is a miracle that sinners can see God. This is what happened to Jacob on that day when the Lord wrestled with him at the ford of Jabbok.
The Lord grabbed hold of him, and Jacob grabbed hold of the Lord. When Jacob grabbed hold of the Lord, his eyes saw the face of God. Jacob later called the place Peniel—the face of God. He said, “I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved.”
There was something miraculous in what happened. When Jacob laid eyes on Him, he peered into Him and asked, “Who are You? What is Your name?” Essentially: “Who are You?”
The Lord did not answer his question. He left it lingering in Jacob’s heart, and then He disappeared.
When the Lord confronted Jacob, He asked him, “What is your name?” Jacob answered, “My name is Jacob.” Then the Lord gave him a new name: Israel.
The Lord had a longitudinal view of Jacob’s life. He saw the beginning of Jacob’s life, the current state of Jacob’s life, and the end of Jacob’s life. Not only does the Lord see the end of our life, but He is active in constructing a way for us to reach that end. He molds us and prepares us for the glorious things that He has planned.
Our brothers shared last night a very important reminder. Even though the Lord can see the end, even though He has prepared the way, and even though He is advocating, interceding, and praying for us, if the way is opened and we do not enter into our calling, it will not come to us by osmosis or simply float into us.
He tore open the veil. The question is: will we enter? He brought us to the border of the promised land. The question is: will we go in? He has created a way for us to reach the fullness of who He meant us to be. The question for us is whether we will enter into the calling He has given us as sons of God.
The Lord asks us these things individually. He desires to meet us.
Brothers and sisters, this morning, as I was praying for this message, the Holy Spirit convicted me of something. Yesterday we mentioned that the Lord will build His church through His building work in each individual precious believer. We are the living stones by which His house will be built. He is working, perfecting, and making us ready.
But there was a phrase I used that I think was a miswording. The Lord has a special power, desire, and deep working in the corporate building of His church. It is true that His work upon each of us individually is part of that work. But there is something magnificent and awesome about what He is doing corporately that cannot be easily quantified by saying that it is simply the sum of individual parts.
The Lord is doing something magnificent. He has a power and a desire for it that spans all of time and everything that He has ever thought or done. We have to see how small we are in the context of what He is doing, but also how crucial we are to what He is doing.
The greatness is in His intention and purpose for a bride whom He loves, made ready for Himself. Somehow, in some miracle, you and I have been incorporated into that. We should thank Him.
It is a wonderful saving story. But we ask, brothers and sisters, how can we make ourselves available to Him? How can we go on this way?
The Lord gave Jacob a blessing in the question He planted in his heart: “Who are You, Lord?” Jacob did not know. The Lord did not give him a complete answer, because the Lord wanted to give him something to chase.
You and I have chased many things. We have sought after many things. Even after we have achieved them, we wonder, “Is that it? Is that what it was all for?”
I remember when my wife and I remodeled our house and built a new addition. I had thought about this room for so long—its length, its width, and where it would go. After it was all done, I put a chair in the room, sat there, looked around, and thought, “Is that it?” All that time and all that energy of my mind, and I wondered, “Is that it?”
Other things may not be so simplistic, but we have chased many things. Even after we achieve them, we sit there and wonder, “Is that it?”
The Lord gave us a question in which the more we found, the more we realized we did not know: “Who are You, Lord?” If we seek out who He is, we will learn who we are. But if we try to find who we are outside of Him, we will never be satisfied.
The answer to our theme question is to chase Him down in our lives, ask Him, and find out who He is.
In light of what we shared yesterday, we want to move on to the work of the limping in the building up of Jacob into Israel.
There were actually three blessings. One was that Jacob looked into the face of God and suddenly had something foundational upon which to build. Then he received a limp in his thigh, so that for the rest of his life he could not walk anywhere without remembering what had happened and Who had met him. Finally, he was given the lingering question that kept him curious, excited, and moving forward throughout his life.
It is mind-boggling that the Lord would have us learn who He is and give us a chance to know Him. We are His workmanship, being built up according to a plan. What are we being built up to? We are being built up to be conformed to the image of His Son, as we are told in Romans.
For the remainder of Jacob’s life, he had this limp. When we ask for a blessing, we are not expecting to get a limp, especially if we are runners. If we love to run marathons, why would the Lord give us a limp? If we love to explore, why would the Lord give us a limp?
The Lord gave Jacob the cross for the remainder of his life. After the Lord left him with that cliffhanger question, Jacob crossed over the ford of Jabbok. He must have noticed, all of a sudden, “Wait, this is harder than it was before.” He had to limp across the ford. He gathered up his family, and he built an altar.
We might think that moving forward he should have been on cloud nine. He had these blessings and advantages. He had seen the Lord. But it did not work out that way.
In the very next chapter, his daughter Dinah was violated. His sons conspired to kill the men of an entire city because of what had happened to their sister. Then Deborah, Rebekah’s nurse and the last lingering remnant of Jacob’s mother whom he loved so much, died.
Then Jacob’s beloved Rachel gave birth to Benjamin, and Rachel died. Jacob lost the love of his life. Then he and his brother buried their father, Isaac.
It did not get easy. In fact, it got much harder. There were more challenges to life, all the while limping, depending on the staff, and unable to get from place to place as he had hoped.
He then did something very understandable. He put all his love upon the remnant of Rachel as seen in her sons Joseph and Benjamin. He loved Joseph, made him a coat of many colors, and Joseph liked to walk around and show it off to his brothers.
Then his brothers took Joseph and sold him into Egypt. They took his coat, dipped it in blood, brought it to their father, and Jacob’s heart was bereaved.
Consider the losses: Dinah, his sons’ violence, Deborah, Rachel, Isaac, and then Joseph. We might ask, should life not get easier after a face-to-face encounter with the Lord and an inspiring lifelong question to chase? But it did not.
Yet, at the end of Jacob’s life, when Joseph brought his sons to him for blessing, Jacob blessed Joseph and said:
The God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac did walk,
The God who hath been my shepherd all my life long unto this day.
Looking back over 130 years of difficulty, tragedy, loss, and mistakes, he said to his son and grandsons, “God has been my shepherd all my life unto this day.”
He was not saying that God was only his shepherd on good days or high days. He was saying that every day of his life, no matter what had happened to him, God was his shepherd.
A shepherd works with two instruments. He works with a staff to guide us in the way in which we should go. He works with a rod—the cross—to chasten us when we wander. Sometimes we wander too far, and danger is near, and the rod has to come upon our lives to keep us close by.
This notion of the cross became very real to Jacob. At times the Lord guided him, and at times the cross fell upon his life. But he got to where he was for one reason alone: because of the Lord.
The cross is an instrument of love. The cross is an instrument of grace. We may think we would be better off without it, but without the cross we would be very lost. I would be scared to think about who I would be—the monstrous flesh-life in me that could be manifested—if not for the constant faithfulness of the staff and rod.
The Lord did a marvelous work in Jacob. In several examples at the end of his life, we can see how he changed.
As Jacob approached 130 years old, another challenge came: a horrible famine. He looked around and saw all the little ones in his charge—his children and grandchildren. He saw the descendants through whom, eventually, our Lord would come. But Jacob did not know that. All he saw were these children, and he knew he had to feed them.
When the famine came, he sent his sons to Egypt because he had heard that Egypt had stores of grain. There was a governor to whom they needed to go in order to obtain food and live.
We know the story, but they did not know it. The governor was Joseph. By the Lord’s working, Joseph had become governor in order to preserve life. His brothers did not recognize him, dressed as he was in Egyptian garments.
Joseph gave them a hard time, and eventually told them, “Go back home. I know you have a youngest brother. I will give you grain, but you must return and bring him back. Then I will give you more.”
They went home and told Jacob. This was the first sign of how Jacob had changed. They told him, “The man said that we should come back and bring Benjamin.” Jacob asked, “Why did you tell him about Benjamin?” They explained that the man had specifically asked.
Jacob refused. They lived on the grain as long as they could. Why did Jacob refuse? Because Benjamin held all of his heart. Rachel was gone, Joseph was gone, and Benjamin represented Jacob’s most treasured possession—the one thing he would not let go of.
We are reminded of the story about the one room. We hand the Lord the keys to our house, but there is one key we will not release because that room is ours. It is our most precious place.
That is who Benjamin was to Jacob. It was not easy for him to let Benjamin go because all his love and hope were placed upon Benjamin. Then the Lord came calling again and said, in effect, “You need to release Benjamin for the sake of all the people. Otherwise, they will die.”
Jacob still held on. Brothers and sisters, if we ask ourselves, “What or who is our Benjamin?” each of us may give a different answer. These are not necessarily bad things. It may be our children, our spouse, or dreams of doing something good. Yet we hold on with white knuckles and will not let go.
Brother Kong tells the conclusion of that story well: “If I am not Lord of all, I am not Lord at all.”
Jacob held on for dear life to that remnant of his precious Rachel. But somehow, as Jacob looked around at the people and the dwindling grain, he let go.
The grabber let go. The cross has an incredible ability to fall upon us and change us 180 degrees. It is the only thing in the entire world that can do this. On our own, it is hard to change five degrees. But the Lord and His cross can take a man or a woman in their very soul-nature and change them 180 degrees for the kingdom of God.
This is what the cross did in Jacob’s life. He became someone who could let go.
Then he said, “If I be bereaved of my children, I am bereaved.” In saying this, he was suggesting, “Whatever the Lord does with this—whether I see Benjamin again or never see him again—I am willing to release this to the Lord.”
This is the sign of someone with maturity: one who is willing to release something to the Lord and say, whether it seems good or bad in the eyes of men, “This belongs to Him, and I will yield it to Him.”
We are reminded of Queen Esther. She was a Jew, and a plan arose in the kingdom of Xerxes to eliminate all the Jews. Mordecai came to Esther and told her she had to advocate for her people. But any person who came before the king uninvited could be killed.
Esther faced the decision in her heart: “I need to give up my life for the sake of the people.” She struggled until she saw something larger than herself. Then she said:
If I perish, I perish.
This is the sign of someone who sees something greater—who sees that the Lord is doing something larger in our lives. Then we have the ability to let go of the things of this world that we long for and hold onto.
This is not easy. But we must realize that we have to enter in. In order to enter in, sometimes we need to let go of the things that anchor us to the depths of the sea. We have to let go.
It would be wonderful if we could be in both worlds—one foot in one boat and one foot in the other. But the Lord is calling us to let go. The cross has to work in our lives to undertake this for us, because none of us has the ability to do it on our own.
The second sign of the cross working in Jacob’s life came after Joseph revealed himself to his brothers. Joseph wept and poured out his heart to them, saying, in effect, “You sent me here for evil, but the Lord sent me here for good and to preserve life.”
He told them, “Go tell my father that his son Joseph is alive.” They were stunned. They returned and told Jacob, “Father, your son Joseph is still alive.” The whole story had to come out.
Jacob heard all these things, which must have been hard to accept at once. But finally he said, “It is enough. I will go.” They gathered the whole family and headed south toward Egypt.
At the southernmost tip of the promised land was a city called Beersheba. Once you crossed past Beersheba, you were leaving the promised land. The whole family traveled there, and when they came to Beersheba, Jacob stopped.
Everyone stopped with him. They watched as Jacob built an altar. That evening, the Lord met him and reassured him.
Why did Jacob stop? In the depths of his heart, he remembered the promise made to him. This promise was not only for the good of Jacob and his family; it was also the Lord’s heart and intention. The promise was that the land would be given to him and his descendants, that his descendants would be multiplied, and that all the families of the earth would be blessed through his house.
Jacob knew this was a very important promise the Lord had revealed to him. He came to Beersheba and stopped because he knew that if he took one more step, he would leave the promised land. Ahead lay a foreign land. Behind him was where the Lord’s promise rested.
He stopped not because he did not trust God, but because the work of the cross had changed him. This man who always had answers suddenly did not trust himself. Even though the course seemed obvious—grain, life, wealth, protection, and his sons were all in Egypt—there was still a promise in Jacob’s heart.
He was willing to risk famine and death so that the promise might be fulfilled. He stopped, built an altar, and the whole family stopped with him.
That night the Lord said, “Jacob, Jacob.” He told him:
Fear not to go down into Egypt;
For I will there make of thee a great nation:
I will go down with thee into Egypt;
And I will also surely bring thee up again.
Sometimes we do not know how a person is feeling until the Lord responds, because the Lord can see. We remember when Paul stood in the midst of chaos and the Lord said, “Do not fear.” We sense that Paul was afraid from the Lord’s response.
Here we see a man who had always been an adventurer and knew where to go, but now he had a fear in his heart. He feared that he would make a decision that would cause the Lord to lose something in him.
This is the mark of a man upon whom the cross has fallen. In the big decisions, like Beersheba, and the small decisions, like how we are before colleagues, we ask: “Is there some sense that, through this decision, the Lord may find loss? Will His purpose fail to move forward because of this?”
This marks a change in our lives—a knowing of God and His purposes that can only come when the cross has done a cutting work in our hearts.
Only after the Lord gave His permission did Jacob rise from the altar, look down at the boundary line of Beersheba, and cross over. He would not go anywhere without the Lord’s permission.
This is the nature of the Lord Jesus. Everywhere He went, He went with the instruction, companionship, and leadership of His Father. The old grabber, the one who had tricked his way to the top, now would not venture anywhere until he had the Lord’s instruction and permission.
Jacob had lost confidence in the old man—the old Jacob—because he had seen too many times that the old Jacob went in the wrong direction. May the cross of our Lord Jesus fall upon us so that this becomes real in our lives.
It does not happen by exerting our best efforts. We need to submit ourselves to the cross and enter into the calling of the Lord.
After they crossed into Egypt, the Lord blessed them in an unusual way. Jacob was brought before Pharaoh, and Joseph introduced his father. Pharaoh granted them a land to live in called Goshen.
Goshen was the best land from the point of view of harvest and pasture. There was provision there for their flocks. But it was the worst land from a social point of view, because flock herders were odious to the Egyptians. They were considered castoffs.
If you were driving on the freeway and knew you were approaching Goshen, you might say, “Let’s wait until the next exit before we use the restroom,” because nobody wanted to stop in Goshen.
My wife and I often drive from Los Angeles to the Bay Area, and there is a city—a cow town, I will not say its name because some people may live there. Right off the freeway, you see all these cows. When my children were little, they would point out the window and say, “Moo, moo, moo.” One time we stopped at a gas station, and they smelled the smell. They asked, “Mom, what is that?” She said, “Moo-woo.”
There was a smell, and it was a place where the high and mighty certainly would not have purchased real estate or wanted to live.
But of all the places the Lord gave them, He said, “I am going to plant you in Goshen.” In the eyes of the world, we might think it was not the best place to live. But in the eyes of heaven, the Lord planted them there for a purpose: it was a protection.
For four hundred years, they would be there. The Lord would protect and guard them from the influences of the world. They would become a nation there, and out of that nation would come so much of the testimony of Christ.
Goshen reminds us that the world is not our home. No matter how much we may want to buy a place in the poshest part of town, in the end, we who have been saved are shepherds and are shepherded. We are about the work of God. To the world, the work of God is odious. It is repugnant.
If we are not willing to be Christians through and through—if we are not willing for the world to look at us with disdain and look down upon us—we miss that this very looking down is a protection for the people of God. It keeps us separated and near to Him.
There is a bonding together in this place called Goshen, where we can learn together, “Who am I?”
The influences of the world are strong. I think of the brothers and sisters in Manhattan, in New York City, in the heart of the world, surrounded by riches and influences. It is a miracle that the Lord can make a gathering place in such a setting—a place like Goshen, separated out in the midst of all the riches of the world that draw our hearts and attention.
For the Lord’s people to choose to be odious bears a testimony of His greatness. That can only happen when the cross falls upon our lives, so that we know this world is not our home and are willing to be cast out.
Goshen was a physical place of separation from the world, but it was also a decision of the mind and heart: “My home is not here in the world. I am separated out. I do not belong to them, even though I am near them, work near them, and am in the world. I am not of the world.”
We interact every day and bear witness, yet in our hearts our home is in Christ. It might not have been our choice, but it was the Lord’s perfect choice.
The Lord is trying to protect us in these days. The enemy intends to destroy us. He is destroying and separating the world in order to destroy the church. It is harder and harder for us to say, “My home is not in the world. My home is here. My citizenship is in heaven.”
I remember a close friend and brother with whom I am thankful to serve. He told me that when he was in high school—or perhaps college—he partied with his friends. They knew that he was a Christian. One friend said to him, “You are so cool. You have it so together. On Sundays you go to church and are a Christian, but during the week you can party with us.”
When my brother shares this testimony, he says that it crushed him.
Our testimony is in Goshen. It is in being separated out. The Lord is building the family, the kingdom, the testimony, and the bride. We are in the world, but He has separated us out and marked us as holy for Him.
We need to enter into that. When opportunities come to plant the flag, it has to be there. We must be careful about how our colleagues see us and how we gather together.
Goshen: the Lord is separating out a place for us. May we enter into that.
The final thing was a testimony. At the end of his life, when Jacob knew that his 130 years were nearly finished, he called Joseph back to him.
They had a way of making serious promises. My children, when they were little, made pinky promises. This was a different variation. Jacob had Joseph put his hand under his thigh and made Joseph promise something.
He said, “When I die, do not bury my bones in Egypt. Take my bones back to the promised land. That is where I need to be buried—with Abraham, Isaac, and the promise.”
Joseph promised that he would do this, and Jacob worshiped.
Why is this so inspiring? We are spirit, soul, and body. When we die, our spirit and soul leave this earth, and all that remains is the remnant of a body.
What had happened to Jacob after the cross had fallen on his life for so long was that he wanted his entire life—everything about him—to be a testimony for Christ. He did not want any part of who he was to point to the world.
This is a wonderful testimony. Why was it such a big deal that he wanted to be buried in the promised land? For the four hundred years following, many Jews would be buried in Egypt, including Judah, Perez, Hezron, and many others in the line.
Perhaps generations later, a Jewish boy might have asked his father, “Father, how did we end up in Egypt? Why do we live in Goshen?” His father would have shared the testimony that many years before, God raised up the patriarchs. They were brave. They listened to the Lord. He led them there, protected them there, and built them into a nation.
Then perhaps the boy would ask, “Can I go to Jacob’s grave site to honor him?” His father would say, “Son, we cannot do that.” The boy might ask why. His father would say, “Because his bones are not buried here. His bones are buried at our home, in the promised land. This place where we are is not our home. Our home is somewhere else.”
The testimony of Jacob was this: “My home is where Christ is—in the promised land, where He has gone before me to prepare a place for me.”
The old Jacob was gone. The cross had crushed him out, and the old man had disappeared. In his place was a magnificent conforming to the image of the Son of God.
If you had asked Jacob many years before, “Who are you, Jacob?” and the Lord had said, “You are Israel,” Jacob never could have believed or seen that he would be made into the likeness of the Son of God.
But there he was at the end. The testimony of his life was Christ—nothing less.
The Lord has brought us here at this time and confronted us with the question: “Who am I in Christ?”
If we think narrowly, all we can see is the present moment or a past defined by the enemy and by the world. But the Lord is trying to show us that He has a purpose, a plan, an intention, and a very special calling for us. May we enter in.
May the Lord, through the work of this limping—this cross—crush out the old man in us and make for Himself someone new. The old things are done away. We are something new.
At the end of Jacob’s life, Hebrews 11 gives a very short and wonderful testimony. The last image we have of him is as an old man, at peace, leaning on his staff and worshiping.
The staff, to us, is the cross. When we walk through life with the cross always there, every day, it becomes worship to Him. Our life may become worship. We are His workmanship, created for His works.
We will end with Philippians 1:6:
Being confident of this very thing,
That he who began a good work in you
Will perfect it until the day of Jesus Christ.
Praise the Lord. Let us bow for a word of prayer.
Lord, we thank You and worship You for the work You have done and the work You are continuing to do. May You be glorified and honored. May the desires of Your heart be fully satisfied in Your house.
Lord, may You find willingness in us to enter into the things You have prepared. Help us not to shun the cross. Help us, Lord, to learn how to worship You in our lives.
Lord, walk on with us. Thank You for not letting go. Be faithful to Your own purposes, and fulfill Your plan. We know You will do it. You are able and wonderful.
In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.
Let us give a minute for private prayer as we settle with the Lord what He has just spoken to us.