The Emergence of a Voice

It is no surprise for me to tell you all that I am a thinker. I take an idea or thought and in my head I take it apart to its basic parts and then I put it back together and then take it apart. I look at it from different angles positions. I reform it into different things and then put it back into it original form. Like some mad inventor getting lost in his work that is me with a thought or an idea.

Earlier I have shared these disastrous brainstorms in all there Glory on here. Yet out of such things a voice is born. Like a child taking his first cry peoples lives are irrevocably changed. I might not reach more then just the few people who read my stuff on facebook, I might end up even more obscure who knows but while I have this blank piece of paper in this notebook on here to type on I will share my brain-mess with anyone who would partake in the abject oddity of my mind.

The Birthing of a Voice comes for the longing of the Dreams of the Heart.

I am sticking to that. You see my as I spend time in prayer, reading books, writing, service and helping others with their dreams my own dream has developed. This is not my only dream I am talking about but just the next step in my life. What I would like to spend time doing and all of it was birthed in the the longing dream of my heart.

I quote my friend and teacher Jason Hamlin "Pay attention to what makes you Angry, what makes you Cry , what makes you Long. These are usually what God has you here to do something about."

For me my heart cries out for a place to belong. Do not get me wrong there are places I can go and be loved on but a place to belong is something more. A place to belong it is a Refuge of the heart. It host a family where your accepted in for all you peculiarities wether they fit with everyone else's or not. It is a place where one can develop dreams safely and you know when someone corrects you or disagree with you that it is to help develop you and your vision not the other's agenda. Its a place to laugh together and to cry together or just be left alone. Its dinner around tables discussing stories, or going out into the streets to dance for no other reason then dancing.

I have had visions of broken cogs (Army of Cogs) that bring together those who not only just don't dress like they fit but breathe, think and are completely different. These are those on the fringe pressed out by the clockwork machine that is society. These are the street gypsies of today and my dream is have a Refuge for them. A Citadel if you will in New Orleans. A bow, a sling shot, a launch pad that creates comets in the heavens of society out of a forgotten city. A army, a family, and community of people whose stories my not be ever fill the shelves of men but surely will fill the libraries of heaven.

My voice will cry in the street come all you who are misunderstood and find your true identity. Find your dreams. Create your sound, Have a family, leave and inheritance put your finger prints cityscapes of America and the world. The Lord invites you to his house.