Joshua Bocanegra’s blog

It's finally happening. The Holy Spirit is moving in our community. We have prayed and prayed for years, many longer than i. It's something that i have prayed to see and experience for years. Now something is happening.

Would i call it revival? 

No.

There are things that i am still praying for, believing for, that i am not seeing. Yet. I believe that God is working us toward that. When people are getting saved in the stores, falling out in their homes and at the mall, and tremble under the conviction, fear, and love of God in the salvation of Jesus Christ, that is when i'll call it revival.

I don't mean to argue semantics. If you want to call it revival that is completely okay with me.

This is a dream come true. I've heard the stories. I've believed in it from the beginning. There has never been a time when i thought that maybe God doesn't heal anymore, that he doesn't deliver anymore, that he doesn't speak to people through prophets or a prophetic gift. I have seen seen some healings. Things like colds and headaches, a sore shoulder, and i know of a woman who was in a wheelchair one sunday and not the next (though i didn't actually see that one). But i have never actually been acquainted in intimate ways with people who are getting healed.

Eyes
Ears
Broken ankles
Emotional deliverance
Deliverance from demons
Repentance that causes people to change everything

There are so many things we, as a community, are learning and that we need to learn. I have so many thoughts.

I don't know what to say.
Thank you, Father, for giving us the gift of the Holy Spirit through the blood of your Son, Jesus Christ. Thank you so much. I've never seen anything like this, I've never been apart of anything like this. You are so so so so good. Keep coming. Keep coming. We want more. Oh! We want so much more. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come! Come! Come!

He's so good. He is so good. He is so faithful. He is so faithful to his word and his promises. What else is there to say, really? He loves us. He loves us so much. He's here. He's going to do more.

And yet.....
I am still longing. I am still hungry, i am still thirst for living water. I want new wine. I like the new wine of the Holy Spirit. But i want living water, not that i think that you really have to choose between one or the other. My heart just longs for intimacy with the Lord Jesus. I need an encounter with the Risen Lord, I need an encounter with Jesus.

Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Challenging.
Inspiring.
Consistent.

These are some words that a fellow blogger used (you probably know who it is) to describe the blogs that we was going to recommend.

I'm sorry i am none of those. I try. Sometimes. Sometimes i try to be one of the above or all of the above or even two of the three. I don't think i am quite making the cut. There was a time when i always wrote. The "must i write" question was a definite yes. I still want to write. I still need to write.

Hopefully this is doing something for someone.

If it's not. It's really quite alright. I write here more to have a semi-public outlet so that people can know where i really stand on things or the different thoughts that are mostly for me, but that i feel would be beneficial for others as well.

I want a pair of cowboy boots.

Even the sparrow finds a home...at your altars, O LORD of Hosts, my King and my God!
Psalm 84:3

I love this verse.

I love the verse because i love little birds, i love doves and finches, i even love pigeon, and i love sparrows. This verse has always meant a lot to me. I remember reading it for the first time, or rather the first time it really stuck out to me. The chapter starts out by saying: How love is your dwelling place...My soul longs, yes, even faints, for the courts of the LORD. This is a reality i have lived in for a very long time.

My soul longs for the courts of the Lord. My heart yearns for the presence of the Lord. Even during the times of doubt i knew that all i wanted was God to be near...a sparrow just flew to the window i'm sitting by...all i wanted was to find my home and peace and security in God. This really is the story of my life. It is a long search for the courts of the Lord.

Man, i jack this up all the time. I am, just like the sparrow, skittish at every little thing that seems to attack me. Just like a little sparrow i am easily drawn to little crumbs that line the sidewalks of life, seeing the lesser lovers of this life, and often feeding on those rather than going to the house of the Lord, the secret place.

Sparrows seem so insignificant. They are little, they don't contribute to anything. They don't create the wonder and awe of the eagle, they don't amuse people like ducks or geese. They aren't useful like chickens. They're not fearful like ravens. They're not enigmatic like vultures. They're not good for food like turkeys. They just live their days, flitting about here and there, picking up the crumbs by outside tables, going about mostly unnoticed by the masses as they hurry about their busy lives.

They're only mentioned three times (that is, in the ESV) three times. Look it up, i think you'll find it very interesting. Each mention is very different.

I feel like this. More than i feel useful i feel in the way. More than i feel important i feel insignificant. More than i feel special i feel passed over. More than i feel like i'm accomplishing something important in life i feel like i am just existing. I often feel too small to be of any importance to God.

"Why would God want me or choose me? I don't have a crazy past that he can use as a wonderful testimony that moves people to get saved. I don't have all my junk together in a way that he can use me to organize a movement, let alone a ministry. I don't have an appealing voice that attracts and silences people as they listen. I'm not that good of a singer or musician, i'm not that good of a writer. I'm plain. I'm neither extremely holy nor extremely evil. As far as i can tell, God doesn't choose the plain people to write about in the Bible." These are the words that i often whisper to myself as i am driving home from somewhere trying to connect with the purpose of my life.

I know it's not true. I know that God loves me. I don't know why. Maybe i don't need to know why. There's only one reason i believe that he cares about me. The cross. The cross and another small passage of scripture, also to do with birds.

Look at the birds of the air (i like to think that he is looking at a sparrow when he says this, this is the mental picture i have anyway): they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value then they?
Matthew 6:26

This is a good verse for me to remember. Consider the birds. Consider the sparrow. They are blissfully carefree in their lives. They build nests. They take care of their young. They flee the enemy. They sing. Yet they're never worried about food. Why? Because my heavenly Father takes care of them. He feeds them. They know it. They don't worry because they have a home at the altars of the Lord. They have a home in the presence of the Lord.

I need to remeber this. I desire the Lord. I desire his presence. More than i want to feed on food or any other thing that satisfies my appetites i want to feed on the Lord. I want him to feed me with his love, with his presence (think Song of Solomon 1:5). Not just the theological kind, but the subjective kind where i don't want to leave my room because i am with him.

Maybe sparrows are mostly insignificant to people, they're not to God. Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. Why, even the hairs on your head are numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows (Luke 12:6, 7). Maybe i am mostly insignificant in this world, but not to God.

I probably don't fully believe this yet. I'm working my way there. If i am more value than the sparrows, and the sparrow has found a home at the altars of the Lord, then surely i have a home in the presence of God.

I guess all i can do is keep flying until i find my home in the Lord. I long for the courts of the Lord. I long for his presence. I want him.

I lie awake; I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop.
Psalm 102:7

There are days in my life right now when i feel like i have absolutely no idea what i am doing. This seems to be one of those days (i have written that statement so many times in blogs and journal entries). It seems that nothing is going on, either in my heart or in my life, or that everything is going on all at once. Either i am busy out of my mind and i feel desire for God and at the same time wondering if God is going to ever save me from my mind and myself, i feel like the greatest riches of heaven are at my finger tips while feeling that they are just out of sight. Everything seems like it's just around the corner. Everything good and everything bad. Otherwise i feel nothing, sense nothing, want nothing.

This is one of those times when everything is swirling in my heart. It's hard to be around lots of people because my mind and heart are so busy. It's hard to be alone because my mind and heart are so busy. In the midst of a group of friends i just want to leave and try to sort out the chaos that ensues upon my emotions. When i am alone i just want to be with someone or some people so that i can ignore the chaos in my emotions.

Really, the best thing for me right now is to avoid the groups and hang out alone in my room or on the porch, or in a coffee shop with my earphones in and some instrumental music that guides my emotions to the Spirit.

I'm finding again that God has made me for the Secret Place. Maybe that's not very unique. In fact, i'm quite sure that God has made everyone for the quiet fellowship of the Secret Place. I have to believe though that there is something unique about my place there. Again, not that everyone doesn't have a unique place. I find myself drawn by the testimony of the Mystics. Something about their lives, the way they gracefully walked through the dark nights in their souls beckons me to come.

Oh i know that God is real. I have seen him, i have felt him, i have witnessed his power send rain in a drought, cause the sick to be well, and the lame to walk. I have witnessed him change people's lives over, and over, and over again. I see it, i hear of it and i cry out to God, "Why not me!? When are you going to break into the darkness in my own heart and change my life?"

I don't know what to do with that. I ask the Lord if i am saved, because i often doubt it, and i ask him to give me some sign, and i ask for some very specific sign, and he has never left my request unfulfilled. The mystics, namely John of the Cross, say that these nights of the purgation of the senses are so necessary if the human being is to be united with the Lord in love. Then they say that the whole life of a believer is likened unto a dark night....

What am i supposed to do with that?

The only thing i know to do is to run to the Secret Place and wait on the Lord. Not in some superficial way where i read my Bible til i get bored with that, say some things to God until i get bored with that, and then read my Bible again until i am bored with that and start the cycle again. I mean the real w a i t i n g on God until he speaks. To ask the Holy Spirit for a passage of Scripture then look until i find it. Then take the passage and read it and read it and read it and sit silently until he speaks.

The only problem is,
i
am
so
terribly
bad
at
that

It's so easy for me to run off and find something to occupy myself with and ignore the hunger and desperation inside my heart. I know that it doesn't sound very virtuous, to run from the hunger and desperation. Let's just be honest. I'm just not that great. Unlike my heroes, i don't like the pain of longing. Longing is tantamount to suffering and waiting is like treating a broken bone or ruptured organ. It takes a long time to heal. I fear the hunger and the desperation, i fear the longing because i don't want to go to the Secret Place and be rejected. I would rather go to the Secret Place and find that it's not real and the One there isn't real. But as i've already mentioned, i know that he is real and that he is alive. I fear the hunger because i don't know how strong i am or if i have what it takes to go my way up the mountain. The Mystics say that the way to the summit of the mountain is to let go of every temporal passion, to let go of even the longing for peace, joy, and the felt presence of God and to seek only God himself for his own sake and his own glory.

Everyday that he doesn't answer the longing grows. The longer he doesn't answer the more i become afraid.

Just how long can this go on? Just how long can i go on?

Why, since you wounded
this heart, don't you heal it?
And why, since you stole it from me,
do you leave it so,
and fail to carry off what you have stolen?

¿Por qué, pues has llegado
aqueste corazón, no le sanaste?
Y, pues me le has robado,
¿por qué así le dejaste,
y no tomas el robo que robaste?

The only thing i know to do is to keep going up the mountain. It's windy and it's cold. It's dark. It's unknown. I only know that i must keep going. I must keep going because there is a very real and very alive person at the summit. His name is Jesus. It's normal and it's.o.k. to feel lost going up this mountain. It purges the soul of self-reliance and opens it up to grace. 

Jesus gave his all that i might be his all. He gave all that i might let go of all and have him who fills all things and is all. I believe that he stole this heart. I believe that if he has seduced my heart than it is because he fully intends on satisfying it. He is holy, he is pure, he is humble, he is meek and lowly and the one who dwells with him in intimate fellowship must be holy, pure, humble, meek, and lowly as he is. I believe the reason he takes me into the night again and again is to purify me so that i might be like him. He is making me like him so that i can dwell with him where he is. I love him. I love him because he loves me. I know i love him because after so long up this cold mountain i have not turned back. I love him because i know it has been his grace and voice that has kept me climbing and going up this path.

Therefore, behold, i will allure her,
Bring her into the wilderness
And speak kindly to her.
Then I will give her vineyards from there,
And the valley of Achor as a door of hope.
And she will sing there as in the days of her youth...
It will come about in that day, declares the LORD,
That you will call me "My Husband"
And will no longer call me My Lord...
I will betroth you to me forever;
Yes, I will betroth you to Me in righteousness and in justice,
In lovingkindness and in compassion,
I will betroth you to me in faithfulness.
Then you will know the LORD.

Por tanto, he aquí, la seduciré,
la llevaré al desierto,
y le hablaré al corazón.
Le daré sus viñas desde allí,
y el valle de Acor por puerta de esperanza.
Y allí cantará como en los días de su joventud...
Sucederá en aquel día --declara el SEÑOR--
que me llamarás "Mi Marido"
y no me llamarás más "Mi Señor."
Te desposaré conmigo para siempre;
sí, te desposaré conmigo en justicia y en derecho,
en misericordia y en compasión;
te desposaré conmigo en fidelidad,
y tú conocerás al SEÑOR

This is one of my favorite writers and mystics ever. He helped me through some of my darkest seasons in life. You should check him out some time really soon. And since i am still working on the thing i have been writing for weeks, i'll just give you something from someone else.

Where have you hidden,
Beloved, and left me moaning?
You fled like the stag
after wounding me;
I went out calling you, but you were gone.

Ah, who has the power to heal me?
Now wholly surrender yourself!
Do not send me
any more messengers;
they cannot tell me what I must hear.

Why, since you wounded
this heart, don't you heal it?
And why, since you stole it from me,
do you leave it so,
and fail to carry off what you have stolen?

Extinguish these miseries,
since no one else can stamp them out;
and may my eyes behold you,
because you are their light,
and I would open them to you alone.

Reveal your presence
and may the vision of your beauty be my death
for the sickness of love
is not cured
except by your very presence and image.

O spring like crystal!
If only, on your silvered-over faces,
you would suddenly form
the eyes I have desired,
that I bear sketched deep within my heart.

The tranquil night
at the time of the rising dawn,
silent music,
sounding solitude,
the supper that refreshes, and deepens love.

Do not despise me;
for if, before, you found me dark,
now truly you can look at me
since you have looked
and left me in grace and beauty

Be still, deadening north wind,
south wind, come, you that waken love,
breathe through my garden,
let its fragrance flow,
and the Beloved will feed amid the flowers

There you will show me
what my soul has been seeking,
and then you will give me,
you, my life, will give me there
what you gave me on that other day:

the breathing of the air,
the song of the sweet nightingale;
the grove and its living beauty
in the serene night,
with a flame that is consuming and painless.

¿Adonde te escondite,
Amado, y me dejaste con gemido?
Como el ciervo huiste,
habiéndome herido;
salí tras clamando, y eras ido.

¡Ay, quién podrá sanarme!
¡Acaba de entregarte ya de vero;
no quieras enviarme
do hoy más ya mensajero
que no saben decirme lo que quiero!

¿Por qué, pues has llagao
aqueste corazón, no le sanaste?
Y, pues me le has robado,
¿Por qué así le dejaste,
y no tomas el robo que robaste?

¡Apaga mis enojos,
pues que ninguno basta a deshacellos,
y véante mis ojos,
pues eres lumbre dellos,
y sólo para ti quiero tenellos!

Descubre tu  presencia,
y máteme tu vista y hermosura;
mira que la dolencia
de amor, que no se cura
sino con la presencia y la figura.

¡Oh cristalina fuente,
si enesos tus semblantes plateados
formases de repente
los ojos deseados
que tengo en mis entrañas di bujados!

La noche sosegada
en par de los levantes de la aurora,
la música callada,
la soledad sonora,
la cena que recrea y enamora.

No quieras desprecirame,
que, si color moreno en mí hallaste,
ya bien puedes mirarme
después que me miraste,
que gracia y hermosura en mí dejaste

Detente, cierzo muerto:
ven, austro, que recuerdas los amores,
aspira por mi huerto,
y corran sus olores,
y pacerá el Amado entre las flores.

Allí me mostrarías
aquello que mi alma pretendía,
y luego me darías
allí, tú, ¡vida mía!
aquello que me diste el otro día:

el aspirar del aire,
el canto de la dulce filomena,
el soto y su donaire,
en las noche serena,
con llama que consume y no da pena

This morning...this afternoon i find myself wanting to write. Yet my soul is finding difficulty finding something to write about. 

I have been thinking much about revival lately. Thinking of how it relates to our nation, our generation, our cultures and subcultures, my life, but most of all how it relates to the prayer movement, more specifically, IHOP. 

Those of you who have known me since August of last year or later know something about me. I like being Hispanic. I like being a split Mexican-Spanish man. But what many of you don't know is that before August of last year i didn't care about being Hispanic at all. I actually didn't even like that i was Hispanic, especially the Mexican part. There was a lot in me that didn't like being Mexican. I grew up with a lot of offense against my family for the way they lived and associated it with them being "Chicano."

Your breath passes without a whisper,

I'm going downtown