O God! Oh, God! Praise God. Oh, praise God!
Sweet shock froze my brain.
Then the emotions came.
Tears of gratitude when words were worthless.
We had been sitting at the table. Talking about Jesus crying.
Father, You specifically chose this place and time to walk us into a Holy moment.
We had been sharing the things Jesus had taught us by teaching His disciples. His preparation of the disciples concerning changes that were to come quickly. (Luke 19, John 16) His faithfulness to walk in obedience to His Father and letting His disciples know about the days ahead even though they did not comprehend what was really happening. He was preparing them. Jesus was loving them.
And we talked about Jesus weeping. He wept twice. He had a regular cry of sadness and He had another that was a wailing, dirge of the soul. We understood the difference. We understand crying.
Then, I shared with my friends that I cried that very morning. Cried because of the forced change; cried because of emptiness that echoes; cried because of the weight of foreboding circumstances on the horizon; cried for the gentleness of God’s palm where He keeps me, sheltered under His wing as storms build and blow and pass on. And praise music had played as I swayed, alone, and cried a little more because life is rich and deep, raw and alive as I walk in trust of Him.
And I trust Him.
As I finished sharing, I said, “You guys, I want to be able to dance before my God even if tears are dripping off my chin. I want to dance with my God!”
Were You waiting with a smile on Your face at that very moment?
Were You waiting for that. very. cue?
Were You waiting for me to put my heart’s desire into words for me to hear myself say?
Were You waiting for my friends to hear this desire so they could see Your glory, too?
You had perfectly planned a surprise party to be unleashed for my soul at an exact moment and You had set the table with Your Word and You had created a very special guest list!
The Holy moment was unleashed as the sound of a text flying into our presence was heard. I glanced at my phone. It was from my husband. I saw the word ‘benign’.
BENIGN! “O God! Oh, God! Praise God. Oh, praise God!”
The foreboding weight lifted and I covered my face and cried. It was my second time to cry this day. Cried till the tears were dripping off my chin and that is when my friends went into action! One ran for the music and the other grabbed my hand.
I could hardly stand, so I bent over to help the deep cry out . . .
. . . and they danced for me, then they took my hands to lift them in the air to praise God. And we danced with God. We danced with God!
As we sat down to close out our time, another song came on:
The Great I Am by Phillips, Craig, and Dean
and even as conversation was continuing at the table, silently I was singing in my heart.
Sitting in still-praise of Him!
Driving home, the chorus and first verse kept mixing, kept resounding in my soul:
I want to be close, close to Your side . . .
Hallelujah, Holy, Holy
So heaven is real and death is a lie . . .
God Almighty, the great I AM
I wanna hear voices of angels above
Who is worthy, none beside Thee
Singing as one . . .
God Almighty, the great I AM
Father, thank You for Holy moments. Thank You for ‘benign’. Thank You for Your impeccable timing. Thank You for the gift of friends. Thank You for music that helps us dance with You. Thank You for tissues to wipe tears. Thank You for music that becomes praise-of-my-soul.
God moments. Holy moments.
May you enjoy them silently. And may you enjoy them with friends.
ps This happened yesterday. And today, I am still dancing in the echoing-emptiness. God is good.
Here is a little extra about the song The Great I am: About the song
It was the first morning devotional in Juarez.
She said, “I know you live by faith because your fear did not keep you from coming.”
Father, may the atmosphere of heaven invade my heart every day! I claim the words above their door as the prayer of my heart . . . may darkness, hopelessness and unbelief be replaced with light, hope and belief as I walk into each day with You no matter where I wake!
They came to learn new patterns and new tips for sewing so they can market their goods.
I came looking for God shine.
And I found it.
Father, thank You for showing me how to dance in darkness by looking for Your shine. This past week the Light of Your Word, Your Son, was shining on the faces that came to learn to sew in this room.
And my heart still glows from the warmth of His Shine.
He voiced a question to no one in particular, “Why do we wear an object of persecution around our necks? Wearing something with such connections could be a morbid thought.”
I reached for my little 1/2″ cross, fingering it gently and thinking.
I touched my little cross, again, and remembered His Words.
He gave so much! As I stand in a time of brokenness and “darkness” as to what will come next, I have prayed for God’s light to shine brightly, as stars in the night sky. Since praying that prayer, His cross represents the first shine He has brought to my mind.
And I remember that I have God-worth because of Jesus Christ’s LOVING sacrifice on the cross.
Father, thank You for reminding me of the reason a cross hangs around my neck. I have worth because Jesus Christ set my price . . . He stretched out His arms and died on a cross in place of me. “You are worth this much to Me. Eternity with you is worth this price.”
Today I am reminded Your Son’s death gives my life worth. Thank You, Father.
He “shines” in the form of a little cross around my neck!
May you know your God-worth today.
So we went.
We met with believers in another state,
and listened to a teacher of the Word from another country,
and slept in a room offered by people who opened their home to us.
We enjoyed His rest!
Leaving the heavy-laden load at home for a time,
God prepared a way for us to see Him freshly,
to hear Him hourly,
to play in His creation daily,
and then He sent us back with blown kisses from new friends.
And in this broken season, I have learned He makes gentle requests that cost me self-satisfying ways. He asks me to believe Him, be silent, and be still. He commands me to seek His face, to seek the kingdom of God. And He reminds me to live in today, for tomorrow has enough problems of its own.
Some days, it is hard to get out of bed and begin again.
Some days, I feel lost and confused by all that has happened.
Some days, it seems foolish to not be searching the papers or online job listings.
Jesus reminds me that my greatest work is to believe in the One whom the Father has sent. The Living Water. The Bread of Life. The Good Shepherd.
He cried the sound of brokenness. The sound of nothing left. Empty, again.
I heard him from our bedroom.
The stairs on the side of our home offered a view of firewood neatly stacked for someone else to use this winter. Someone who buys our home. There, he sat with his head in his hands.
I joined him. And the hurt drained our souls. Hummingbirds dive-bombed each other over our heads, oblivious to the struggle going on below. Cleo the cat even came to watch this new sound, the heartbeat of brokenness.
As I sat with the man I love, my cries whispered to God.
Father, do You see him? Do You see us? Or have You turned away?
Stillness reigned. His Word filtered into the cracked places.
I know Your answer in my head . . . You are God and You see. You are El Roi. But my request is this: Could You show me that You really do care about this moment, . . . right here, . . . right now?
That was yesterday.
Today was my turn to cry. While standing in my closet, among hangers and clothes ready to be worn, waves of gratitude washed my cheeks and dripped on shoes. It was the humbling thought that God answered my prayer in a mighty way. He answered in a way I never imagined!
Today, God graciously answered the prayers from the stairs. He used a community of people to deliver His answer. He let us know we had not been forgotten. He had not lost sight of us.
While the Lord fights for me, in the middle of this season of life,
I have come away to be silent, to be still.
Quietness with Him allows rest for the soul.
Silence grants space to think.
While thinking, God is near.
And in our silence together, fellowship begins.
Truly seeing is knowing God for who He is . . .
Fierce as a burning fire storm
Delicate as a butterfly tongue
Deeper than the soul of man.
*’Doing good’ is seeking first His kingdom
and His righteousness,
and abiding with Him.
The other day I prayed, “Lord, take it all away! . . . the load of vain imaginations, emotions, have-tos, and shoulds. I can’t deal with the weight of them!”
It was after a wedding, celebrating a new beginning, that the Lord spoke to my heart.
At the reception, there was a photo “booth” where we could pick up little props to make funny pictures. We laughed and took many pictures with friends. At home after the festivities were over, I looked at the ones that were given to me. And the Lord of Life spoke to my heart.
When I asked God to take the chaos of life away, I also asked, “Who am I amidst all this change?!”
God placed a funny mirror in front of me and said, “Look.”