I don't know what it was about this morning, November 2, 2010 that has me writing this. I don't know why this burden for my brother has so strong come upon me driving me to tears in prayer for nearly an hour now. I'm exhausted but I pray at the very least cause I remember a mother that burned the midnight oil, that soaked and stained the pillow with tears of prayers for salvation and deliverance of a rebellious son that she thought was sleeping in the next room. But instead I lie there silently crying god don't give up on me. I would be foolish to ask for forgiveness knowing very well tomorrow I will follow where those same binding spirits lead me. But my daily prayer and cry with guilt, conviction, pain and a yearning for something more in life burning a hole in me was that the god grandpa and dad had preached about would not give up on me. Mercy that endures forever, grace that's still amazing from my heavenly father have turned completely around that kid crying out to god to this kid crying out. Two in the morning and its dejavu all over again. Tears soaking stains in my pillow but this time not in guilt or pain but a burden for my little brother. It's my turn to burn the midnight oil. To pray the prayer of faith and know that god in his perfect and beautiful way will once again restore the David I know of old. I can't help but think of a time before life hit. Before alcohol, before drugs, before girls, before parties and worldly lust, before seperation, before hard knocks and fights, before the trials and tribulations, before heartache and pain when two boys innocent and naive of life lifted hands and sang praises as only children can do. I can't help but know with hope that's growing stronger and greater each day that the day where two boys lift hands and sing praises again is upon us. I can see him joining this fight to restore a good name to a family ripped apart. To join in with prayers for the remaining who are still searching for what's right before their face. I can see people looking at four gonzales family members and seeing people who have been through the fire more times than not, who have been broken bruised and abused but stand proudly, free, redeemed, saved. Three gonzales kids praying, tearing down hell's gates for soul after soul. For a father once receiving that ultimate call. For a brother who once lead in truth. For a brother once surrendered entirely to His will. For sisters who radiated kindness and joy unspeakable with their lives. For extended family and children. For revival in the kingdom of god. When will this happen? Only heaven knows. But as sure as the day will steal away the night in hours, it will happen. Take note hell. We ain't going anywhere but forward. Too long the chains have bound and restrained my family, friends, and church. Victory is ours.
....and the gates of hell SHALL NOT prevail against it