A couple of weeks ago, I chose to stay at home and spend time with God, rather than to meet and share time corporately. Despite feeling pretty low generally, I was really quite excited about what I could learn during that time and what God and I could share.
Silence. Honestly. Nothing. Some people seem to be really tuned into God and are able to share specfic words that God has spoken to them and that's really what I had expected and wanted to happen, but no.
I've prayed a lot recently for myself and been very specific, which is quite an achievement for me. Although I've found it hard to believe that I'm really in God's hands, I never really doubted. I truely believed that I had handed it all over to God and was taking some practical steps in what I thought was the right direction.
That was until Sunday morning.
I had posted a facebook status as a reminder that I needed to attend the meeting with a focus on what was important, i.e. God, rather than being distracted by anything that could take my heart and mind away from that. I was emotionally neutral(!) and whilst wanting to stay focused, didn't really expect to come away with anything tangible.
The theme of the meeting was 'Light of the World', based on a band piece inspired by William Holman Hunt's painting 'The Light of the World'. As the band prepared to play the piece, before I'd even grabbed a songbook to look at the words, I already had the feeling of slow, quiet, but insistant 'knocking' deep in my being. Tears welled up inside of me and streamed down my face as the first note was played. I was already there in my mind, at the door, with my hand on the handle. I asked God to take it all, everything that had become too much to handle and laughed as I told Him, I thought He already had it!
Going to the Mercy Seat was more of a 'deal-clencher'(!) than anything else. A physical acknowledgement of what had just happened which, in the moment, felt important. I have no idea what Sarah said to me!
Sitting quietly in my seat as the end of the meeting drew in, I couldn't stop crying, yet beaming at the same time. Did I get re-Saved? Is that even possible? No, I was never un-Saved. God never left me and I never left Him, we just needed some time together, in a rational place, a time when He could ask and I could respond.
A time when I could experience 'Another Day in the Snow'.
