Chasing the Son: God is like a Zamboni?

   Last night I was at a evening service at twin view(the second campus here at Bethel where we go to some services), worship had been going for a while, and I just really felt that I needed to do some soaking. I went over by my friend Jenny and laid down on the chairs, and started to talk to Jesus. After a bit Jenny came up to me and prayed and prophesied over me. She had said something about a "new playing field". It really caught my thoughts.  I stated thinking about an ice rink, of course that's where my mind went : ). I started thinking about fresh ice, and how God is like a Zamboni.  Life is like a hockey game. After time the ice gets messy, it gets cuts and grooves and gets covered with snow. These imperfections come from my skates, my opponents skates, and my teammates skates. It's no different where the mess comes from, but the puck(which I see as my ministry) has trouble moving towards the goal unless I allow the Zamboni come clean up the ice. The Zamboni comes out, it has a very sharp blade underneath it. It scrapes up all the snow that has been brought up by skates scraping the ice. It scrapes up the snow and draws it up into itself. After it gets rid of the snow the Zamboni lays down a very hot layer of water on the ice, which melt the top of the ice and repairs and fills in the the cracks and grooves. On the back of the Zamboni there is a blanket that smooths everything out.

    I see the game as life, the puck is my ministry, and the goal is... well my goals, my aim and my focus in life. The ice is the surface life is played out on. As the surface gets messy, it gets more and more difficult to move the puck towards the goal. In order for the ice to be cleaned I must come to a place of total surrender to God. In an intermission of an ice hockey game, everyone must get off the ice to let the Zamboni come out. Even the goals must move. In order for God to come in and give me a clean playing surface I must let Him have total access to my heart. God comes in with the sharp blade of His word(written or spoken) He scrapes close and gathers up my "crap" and pulls it up into Himself. The warmth of His love covers my heart, melts away and repairs the cut and grooves, the hurts, pains, and wounds. Lastly His comfort is like nothing else, like the towel on the back of the Zamboni smooths everything out, Holy Spirit, covers my heart with a comfort like nothing else.