My Nineveh. My Africa.
It hasn’t been long since I wrote about being in a dark place, and I haven’t yet come here to say what it was exactly that brought me out of it, and it still may not be time to explain in detail – mostly because I don’t know the details.
But I can speak of the dark, that I can look back on those places and recognize my own empty, echoing voice, my head shaking NO to God.
And I woke in the middle of the night, in the literal dark, and God was near, but His lips were sealed. And in a sudden, I knew where I was.
I know the belly of the fish. The cave of lost voice. The deafening silence.
Consider in the dark places where Nineveh is
because there, in Nineveh is light and praise and knee-to-floor honesty. There is belief.
Are you fighting against Nineveh?