Pooja



Each day lately, I have tutoring in the morning. I sit at a small outdoor shop near the watering pump and have class under an overhang. The shop keeper offers his "pooja", or morning sacrifice to his g*ds each day as I sit and try to study with my teacher. Each day I can't help, but stop and pr*y, rebuke the enemy and declare life and truth over Mr. Anil. I am thankful for a tutor that also knows the Father and stops with me and understands the need to pr*. I am reminded that each item in the mans' shop, the food I eat, the room I am in, is offered to his g*d. SO I am reminded of the need to pr* over my food, the food I buy in the market, and to cleanse myself of the things associated with the place I live. Dad is bigger than the forces are real. Intercession is a must here. I must be connected- aligned with Dad; in sync to hear and see and know; and to be able to hear that "still small voice" and lines of truth that He offers me to defeat the enemy!  OH Dad, let it be in me.  Lead me, and use me. Cleanse me and wash me that I might be whole and pure before you, pure before this nation. May I reflect you wholly. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Bhindi or “Tikka” Mark on the Head- What is it?

But God...

The ugliness I sometimes see