It happened again…
I found my self in her room, tears uncontrollably running down my face.
In that moment I experience a glimpse of Heaven.
We went to the elderly home to visit the women and worship with them. I came late and the group had already began to sing. As I walked down the hallway I saw her out of the corner of my eye. I turned around and entered her room. Almost instantly I was hit with a shift in my heart, a change in the space around me. I've felt this enough to know that I should dive into this moment because it means that the Lord is present. It means He has something for me to experience.
So I jumped in and sat next to her on her bed. Both her legs had been amputated at the knee, her grey hair pulled gently away from her face and she lay there as nothing but a bag of bones. Only one arm was functioning properly and it was raised waving as she praised the name of the Lord. As I sat down she was so in the moment she didn't notice I was there at first. As the song was over I leaned over and introduced myself and asked if I could join her in singing praises to our Father. She nodded and slowly grabbed my hand.
Now let me tell you that normally I am the person who so badly wants to be able to sing on key, like any key would do, but sadly I do not have that gift. So my normal go to in worship is to whisper under my breath so no one has to bare my tone deaf vocals. But the night before I listened to a podcast on brave worship and it changed everything for me. It finally clicked that this was still an area of my life that I was living in fear and it had me so frustrated. To Hell With Fear. I'm so sick of the spirit of fear sneaking into my life time after time and putting its character on me as if it's my own. The Lord did not make me to carry fear as a characteristic of my identity. The spirit of fear is afraid that is why it is called fear. Fear is its name, NOT mine. So in a dramatic, emotional moment of declaration over my own identity I began to shout my tone deaf vocals. I sang until I was no longer afraid if any one heard me. I sang until I was comfortable in my skin, until I felt brave with my worship. And until I was sure I had sent the enemy fleeing because he deserves to be afraid not me.
So as we were sitting in the room, the next song began. I stared at her at first as she began to sing with all she could muster up. She was not afraid. I noticed that as she sang the Lord met her there in her bed and His presence was thick in the room. I was reminded of the previous night and began to sing out loud with her.Together we raised our hands acknowledging that the Lord was there in the room with us. And in that moment it happened again.
Just like my first trip to Jamaica many years ago,yet again a tiny Jamaican woman laying in her bed, brought me to the Lord. She led me to experience a piece of heaven with such freedom that I couldn't help but cry.
