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November 17, 2006

So I started Rees Howell’s biography – against my better judgement – and I’ve read five chapters since last night. I’m completely jealous. So completely jealous. Not even in a cute way – in a try-not-to-be-outright-angry-with-God way.

This man saw Jesus resurrected. He understood the language of Revelation because he experienced a similar thing. Then, then, before he’s even Spirit-filled he has this five-day meeting with the Person the Holy Spirit (Satan even made a subtle appearance at this thing). I tell you it’s one of the most amazing suspense stories I’ve ever read and it probably wasn’t 10 pages long. You know when I was learning about the baptism in the Spirit I had to hear about it from men; Rees got a private conference with the Man.

I realize that with a greater annointing comes greater responsibility and all that, but right now I’m just blindly jealous. (It is, actually, and amazing story of the Holy Spirit walking him through sacrificing every fiber of his being. I’m only on chapter six, but I highly recommend it.) Not that there’s anything wrong with responsibility if you take care of it … but I’m going to go ahead and put my foot in my mouth right here.

So why didn’t I get a week long private audience when He wanted me to pray, huh? Because I tell you what: that would have catapulted me into this thing much more efficiently than two weeks of nagging reminders.

I’m jealous. (It’s okay, though, because He’s even more jealous for me.)

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