Wednesday, August 9, 2017
It was a normal Sunday morning worship service with music and singing. But for me, about half way through the singing and praise portion that usually starts the service, I found myself no longer listening to the worship team leading us in worship. In fact I wasn’t singing or even entering in any worship at all.
I will confess that I was there physically, but spiritually, in my soul, there wasn’t much going on. I’m not sure how to describe my feelings or my attitude. I suppose I could attribute who I was that morning and how I felt on the fact that I sometimes feel somewhat melancholy ... not really sad or pensive ... perhaps a little depressed, but if I was down for some reason, I don’t remember why.
Sometimes people just feel blaaaah. That’s more then just blah. So that was me that day. Feeling blah.
I heard the music and the singing ... but then I heard these words deep in my soul. The words were softly spoken, but very clear as they cut through the music and singing.
I knew instantly who was speaking to me. The same voice had spoken to me before. It was the Holy Spirit. May I go so far and say ... it was the heart and soul of the “Spirit of Christ” speaking directly unto my spirit and soul.
But this was a first for me. Not just hearing His voice ... this was the first and only time that the Lord’s Spirit and my spirit actually held a conversation together.
My mouth didn’t form my answers to His questions verbally ... I wasn’t speaking out loud ... but rather I heard my own voice as I talked to Him from within my spirit and soul, the very same place, from which I heard His voice.
The dialog went something like this …
“Carl, what’s wrong?”
“Why aren't you raising your hands like you usually do?”
I don’t feel like it I guess.
“Why don’t you feel like it?”
I don’t know.
“Do you know why you should raise your hands when you worship?”
No, not really.
“Because you can!”
The answer as to why we should raise our hands really hit home to me. I have the physical ability to do just that. I know a man who can’t physically raise his arms or even move his hands anymore. He can’t walk either.
He used to be a strong and healthy man fifteen or twenty years ago. But over time through an unknown type of nerve disease, he slowly lost all ability to move any of his limbs.
“Because you can!”
Enough said. Those three words have never left me.
It's ... hands raised and arms wide open for me now.
What is the old saying?
"But for the Grace of God ... there go I."
Comments are welcome.