When I was a child I danced ungracefully and unafraid at the altar in worship, feet flying. It was the thing to do, my spirit knew and worked to keep time with the angels.
Then the years came where I began to refrain, uncertain of how I would be perceived by peers, and my worship became more subdued, more subtle, apart from the times I wept and the times words came like a flood and my body shook with the urgency to release them and so I released them and the room responded. Then a new place of worship. In moments of freedom and rejoicing dancing again. Then long years of worshipping arms crossed and close, thinking, thinking too much of myself instead of looking at Him. Words received but not proclaimed. Then gradually, vibrant words again, with the dancing, still ungracefully and freely unafraid, as an act of surrender and warfare. Words of the Spirit spilling out like a fountain overflowing, words being proclaimed in proper time. Now also stillness, awareness of proximity, awareness of the Spirit in me speaking all the time, of the angels around dancing in steady war against the enemy, and words coming firmly and gently, and some undignified dancing, too. Comments are closed.
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AuthorI write to process. I write to explore. I write with the hope of sharing truth greater than my own. Archives
February 2022
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