A breath of Jesus

I have recently been feeling a time of shadow, a feeling of alone-ness and emptiness. A feeling of God not being there and so far away. I know these feelings are not true, just a time of testing. Look at Moses who wandered in the desert for 40 years! He probably had a feeling of alone-ness his whole life, with his people complaining and hating him for taking him out of their comfort zone to stretch them into God's incredible plan. But he was doing what was in God's will, what he knew was right, and kept doing it diligently no matter how hard life got or how far away He seemed. I bet now the rewards of doing that are totally worth it: sitting at Christ's feet, drinking in the power of His presence.

I have said before that music, especially acoustic guitar, is something that completely touches me like nothing I can explain. It overwhelms me with how powerful and altogether sensational (for lack of indescribable words) the way it hits me like no other illustrated thing. You won't know unless you have experienced it yourself. It's like genuinely talking to God, not like some rehearsed prayer you say in monotone while kneeling in the picturesque prayer position: symmetrically parallel to your bedside with folded hands and closed eyes. It sickens me to think that some people think that is what the Christian life is like.

Honest and actual worship and prayer for me is when I am alone in my room with no one around except God and my guitar, and usually submission and tears are involved. I sometimes whisper the beautiful love song in finger picking while meditating in hushed tones of reverence and amazement on the majesty of the complexities of who God is, groveling at His presence. At other times I completely scream out the words and try to show the extreme emotion of love and thankfulness I have towards the excellence of the unimaginable victory Jesus has over all my burdens and fears. My room and guitar have been my place of refuge, my "temple" of where God has met me in so many places and times of my life. It is a place where I have been through transformations and sleepless nights, of strong points and my weakest moments, of vulnerability and insecurity... God has been there with me patiently and firmly holding me in His strength through it all.

Today, I was practicing for tonight's worship at Awana. At times, the simplest words repeated in authenticity and a true natural spirit are the most effective. My window overlooks these maple trees in my backyard, which is one of the reasons I love my room so much. They are just barely starting to turn golden red, mixed with the beautiful and vibrant green of summer. As I was singing "Precious Lord reveal Your heart to me. You are holy, holy..." I just got stuck on the word holy, reproducing the wonder and awe of the flooding of God Himself into my dry and desperate spirit every time I softly whispered that powerful statement. "Holy". I watched the multicolored, beautiful creations in my backyard rustle gently in the faint breeze that made them seem to want to get out, to blare the love story of God to anyone who would just open their blind eyes and look around. "Holy" My thoughts and fingers cannot put these feelings into words beautiful enough to explain the emotion toward the fullness of my spirit in that half-hour. Holy is my God; altogether and completely holy and beautiful.