My regular attendance at the Legislature is starting to attract the attention of the staff. At this point, I'm generally greeted with 'back again?' or 'You must be a glutton for punnishment'. I've even been getting a few lingering looks from the security staff who I'm sure have figured out that I'm not just a part of another tour group.
A few years ago, MacLean's magazine referred to the 'devout loiterers' on Parlaiment Hill who were actually staff members from the National House of Prayer who were there to pray for MP's.
At this point, I'm spending a lot of time doing the same thing. Apart from Question Period, most of the business at the Legislature, while very important, is a bit like watching paint dry. (It's a good thing I've learned to pray with my eyes open or I might be mistaken for some of the people who catch 40 winks in the public gallery from time to time.)
When I visited Fort St. John this past winter, someone shared something with me that I have spent a lot of time reflecting on over the past week. While he celebrated the open doors that we had experienced, his encouragement was to watch for the hidden doors that would open in the walls.
While I enjoy favor with many people, there are places where there are walls that stand in the way of building bridges to even more people. It's here that I am looking for God to make a way where there seems to be no way. Would you pray with me until we see it happen? Email me at email@example.com and let me know you're praying with me.