The Neighbor at the Door
I think I am afraid. Even if God showed up at my door, not as a burning bush, but as a friendly neighbor with wine and cheese and a great big hug (I love wine and cheese and a good squeeze), would I let Him in? I hope so.
This is not the end of this. We will open our eyes wider. This is not our last breath. We will open our mouths wider. Gungor
Friday, February 28, 2014
Fridays at First Day: The Neighbor at the Door
Often, a women's retreat is laden with tears and wrought with cleansing, yet exhausting, emotion. This year, I headed off to Gettysburg feeling secure in my lot in the Lord. And while the weekend was certainly powerful, I spent most of the time smiling. Watching our women worship, sensing them experiencing the Spirit, and wrapping my arms around them in prayer, brought me great joy. I felt God meet me in a place of lightheartedness, a place where He challenged me to see Him and myself as more complicated and beautiful than I had previously pictured. And while I was smiling, this new uncertainty brought a tinge of fear. But, praise God, He wiped that away without changing the expression on my face.
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