He'd whispered to my spirit that this would be sacred time.
A time to rest, pray and hear His voice after a beautiful weekend full of the voices of His daughters.
I figured I would need to put away the computer, turn on praise music, read the Word . . that's what you do in sacred places.
But to do so would deny my heart and head that really wanted to process their bursting thoughts.
I needed someone to talk to.
I needed a bath.
And a bed.
So we talked as I slipped into the warmth of the tub.
And I listened to worship music.
And I prayed.
I climbed in bed and wrote the words that had filled my heart.
I read scriptures that come to mind.
And He met me . .
Right in the MIDDLE of my reality, of who I am, and how I felt.
I remembered my daughters's fiancé who has proven his love to her by asking her, "How are you?"
He won't take shallow words for an answer.
He wants to know because he loves her.
He wants to know her.
In my hotel room the greatest lover and first romantic met me.
While I bathed, flipped channels (He met me in the end of a movie and caught my heart so strong and by such surprise I sobbed), on the web, on Facebook.
I know there's a time to be still, quiet, and unplug.
But I discovered a truth that blew wide the potential for my relationship with Him.
He is everywhere, and if I don't shut him out of my ordinary . .
Labels: imperfect prose