So Jason and Cassandra came to visit Monday night. They left Tuesday morning for Arizona, and then they’re back in Washington. It’s strange how you get used to being without people, and then when they come back you remember how you never wanted them to leave in the first place.

We saw pictures of their trip last summer to Jerusalem. Made me want to go even more than I already do. We rebutted by showing pictures from TheCall and India, but it wasn’t quite the same. Round one went to the hippies.

Although Jason’s not really a hippie anymore because – as you can see below – he’s got Timothy’s hairdo.

For those of you who were blessed enough to meet them when they lived in Wisconsin a year and a half ago: they’re doing well. They still love youth ministry (although Jason likes Jr. High better, and Cassandra prefers high schoolers), and are doing a Christian camp every summer. They’re living with a nice couple in Washington who are hiring them out, apparently, to renovate bathrooms. We saw pictures of that too; they’re pretty good at it.

Casandra trying to pack according to O’Hare’s regulations.

Jason brushing his teeth.

Awwww.

Cassandra’s gorgeous dreads.

And yours truly got an early Christmas gift from her amazing husband last night:

He snuck it into practice and put it up on the guitar stand so when I turned around (after he told me a billion times to tune up), there it was! My new bass!

It looks good on me.

I can’t seem to get away from this urge to pray for Africa. I meant to sit down with it yesterday, but our friends Jason and Cassandra came for the night (more on them tomorrow) and I didn’t pull myself away from them. No one’s fault but my own.

All day yesterday, though, I was thinking about how I really should sit down and read The Life and Diary of David Brainerd again. I kept thinking about it and I don’t know why because it’s a pretty unappealing idea. Brainerd’s diary reads a lot like Numbers. It’s for the most part very boring, but you read it because you know there’s good stuff in there – mostly toward the end.

But Brainerd was a man who labored in prayer for revival among the Native American people he ministered to, and he saw it come to pass. It’s his prayer life that I’m finally interested in (whereas the first time I read it I was interested in the move of Holy Spirit at the end), so I know it won’t be as dreadful as the first read but I’ve developed a kind of knee-jerk reaction to the title.

Today I pulled up Craig’s blog to see what’s going on at LifeChurch.tv and guest blogger Anne Jackson has posted about the prayer lives of some extraordinary men of God:

• John Wesley prayed for two hours every morning, starting at 4 AM.
• Edward Payson prayed so often, deep grooves formed on the hardwood floor by his bedside where he knelt.
• William Wilberforce spent at least two hours every day in prayer, early in the day.
• John Welch (a Scottish preacher – and we know how those can be) considered his day wasted if he spent less than eight to ten hours in prayer, sometimes in the middle of the night.

And I didn’t pray at all yesterday.

I’ve been praying a lot more lately. I mean a lot.

I read that story a second time. You know – the one that is so un-literary I have to try not to be offended at the poor language, but at the same time has so helped prop open my spiritual eyes. You can download it for free here.

It’s inspired me to pray in tongues more. Driving is my designated pray-in-tongues time, and I drive a lot. I’ve also gotten into the habit of praying in tongues when I’m home alone, and when I’m working on mundane tasks at the office. It’s only been a couple weeks, but it’s amazing.

(And can I just say that tongues is the strangest thing ever. It doesn’t make any sense at all, but I dig it.)

I think its starting to affect the rest of my prayer life. I’ve been able to sit in prayer (normal, I-understand-what-I’m-saying prayer) for longer than ever, and I’m getting some acute focus from time to time.

Like yesterday. Timothy and I were wrapping up the after-church nap and I had this crystal clear, techni-color, make-my-heart-pound dream. I woke up and spent about an hour praying for Africa.

Holy Spirit is so cool.