Sonlight

She sits on the dark rock and watches light appear on the horizon. Pale streaks of red reach toward the fading stars. The wind blows her hair back from her face and I wonder if she can hear me approach. I stop within arm's reach behind her. Silent. What is there to say?

She speaks before I can form words, "Why?"

Curiosity and pain carry the question but I hear no anger in her tone. I want to answer, to explain why I did what I did. But there is still so much for her to discover. She won't understand yet. I shut my eyes but the tears slip through as I stand.

She sighs. Her head bows down over her knees. She leans forwards and crouches, palms flat against the black rock. The sun peeks over the water. A long dark shadow covers my feet.

My stomach knots within me. Please, don't give up now. Now, the blazing light shimmers off the ocean, blinds me so I cannot see what she will do.

Until she rises.
A silhouette, her outstretched arms outlined by brilliant light. She lifts her face to the light.
Seeking the son.

A Story of Dance (part III)

. . .even after admitting surrender and hearing the encouragement of my friends, can you believe I still struggled with dancing at that evening service? My feet itched to dance and my heart ached but I stood swaying with doubt, fear as the worship team played.

But God is very persistent. And abounding in mercy. :)

I stepped into an open area in the middle of the sanctuary and I danced. I danced in adoration, praise, surrender and brokenness. He danced with me! My feelings of awkwardness and clumsiness faded in the wonder of His delight. As a new song began, I was kneeling on the ground and I felt very strongly that this song was meant to be danced with fabric. "Oh Abba," I thought, "too bad I don't have any fabric."

But before I could determine how I would dance, a shimmering veil of white dropped over my head. It was a swath of beautiful transparent fabric held in the hands of an Aussie who had flown into Canada the night before to learn and work at my friends' base. Gracefully, she danced over me with the material.

I was overwhelmed.
NO WAY, God, no way! You did this?
Wow.

. . . :)

Knowing God

On the Circle, TC posted this question:

"What do you really know personally about God? Not from Sunday School, not from 3rd grade sermons from countless sleepy Sunday mornings, not from Bible Studies, or small groups, not from your Dad or Mom, brother or sister, not from friends, movies, books, and stories, not even from the Holy Scriptures… but from your personal intimate interaction alone with…..Him."

The full thread is here , and I recommend reading through it and considering the question yourself.

Yo conozco Dios. What has he spoken to me personally?
He loves me more
(more than anyone else who loves me, more than I can conceive, more than I love Him)

He loves His bride and longs deeply for those in rebellion against Him.

He loves Anna.

He is trustworthy.

What I hear most frequently:

*silence*

"I love you"

"Trust me"

*laughter*

"Wait"

"Dance with me"