“I have posted watchmen on your walls, O Jerusalem. They will never be silent, day or night.”
A watchman is not the strongest one on the wall. He is the one who stays awake so the others can sleep.
That is what this wall is. Not an organization. Not a mailing list. A scattering of praying people who took a post on the wall of Jerusalem from wherever they are, and refuse to go silent, day or night.
It began with a handful. One letter from a hill on the Golan, to friends who had walked this land. Then someone forwarded it. Then someone wrote back, count me in. Then their pastor did. Then a stranger in Germany, a family in Kansas City, a watchman in Calgary, a Vietnamese-speaking wing of its own. Each reply became a stone, and the wall only grows.
The wall grows one way only, and it never changes. Someone reads a letter, the land speaks to them, and they ask to stand on the wall. Nobody is ever added without asking. Nobody is ever a number. Every name comes straight to the hill, and is prayed for by name.
If you have been reading these letters and praying quietly along, you are already a watchman in spirit. Make it a post. Add your name, and pray with us at the same hour, from your home to this land.