Taking Some Space

Hello, it's Sunday afternoon. The sun is shining and if you asked me how I am, I'd probably tell you good. I've just run out of anything to give. It will come back, but for now I've gone into hiding because the thought of most people's voices is daunting. If I'm smart, and I'm going to fight to be, I'll go to bed at 9:00. If I was smarter I'd stay home all afternoon hiding and not even think about going over to my parent's house for dinner. We have lots of people over from church which would normally be exciting and delightful, but sadly I just couldn't handle that right now. Thankfully they're in the front yard or somewhere - I don't know - but it's quiet in my room.

Kevin and Angela were married yesterday. It was glorious. It was hard to get rid of the smile on my face all day. God was definitely not playing hide and seek - it's always fun when he's close and loud and won't go away. Yes he still got me to cry a little.

Now I suppose I could write a very lengthy entry about the whole thing - but I'm tired and before I forget things, I want to try and write about the prayer that happened at the conclusion of the evening.

Now for some reason I think there was 3 passages involved and I can only remember 2 which is unfortunate at the moment.

But between Andy, RJ, Sherry, Pam, Kirk - we should be able to remember more.

But here you go:

Psalm 144:1 (Whole Chapter)
[ [A Psalm] of David. ] BLESSED BE the Lord, my Rock and my keen and firm Strength, Who teaches my hands to war and my fingers to fight--

Proverbs 18:21:
Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.

Now I don't actually remember what was said about my hands of war - except that studying passages today (there's two more) it suddenly connected back to previous words about prophetic music.

The death and life in the power of the tongue has been a recurring theme in my life so long that I probably don't even notice it as having unique ramifications for me. God frequently prompts me to say prayers out loud. God frequently chides me when my mouth is used to curse (because it is frequently used that way) - because my tongue has power and I am responsible for what I do with it.
I am very conscious of what I say and what is said at all by anyone - which is why I have such a good memory for conversations. It's why lyrics in music are so important to me. It's why I pause and search for words when you ask me how my day was (last Monday for example was unmotivated and arduous). It's why I'm particular about accuracy in retelling of stories. I've done studies and studies and studies all my life, on my own, about blessings and curses - about speaking and the tongue - about encouragement and building up.

Anyway there was more. There was a picture of me painting a very large canvas. And every time I splashed more colour on it (did you notice that - colour - God made me LOVE colour - sorry) what I painted came to life. Now my paintbrush was my tongue, my words.

Also, the frame for this painting was the body of Christ, the church. And it was broken, separated. As I painted it, it came together. Now the size of this frame was large enough to represent a nation, my nation, Canada.

FAMILY was a word and it was a big one. Hence the capitals. God has heard my prayers. There will be household salvation (Sweet!!!!)

Work - God put me there for a purpose but I won't be there any longer than 2 years. He will be phasing out my role. (Hallelujah! I really need to continue to pray and trust God with that because I ran so far with that one in a few seconds it was crazy)

I am a source of strength for many but I need to remain filled by God to continue in that (I know what you're thinking: duh... but obviously there was a reason God said that so don't mock him).

And that's all I can remember for the moment.
As for other people, I remember lots of things for them, and Sherry in particular I received specific things for and need to do some reading, studying and praying.

Church was great this morning. Oh how I'd missed worshiping with a drum set (some day I'll play drums - just you wait) and very quickly discerned that God was eager for a little dance action and I tried to tell him that I didn't have any moves and maybe he should wait until I learn some but he very swiftly responded with a reminder to be faithful with small things or there will be no learning bigger things, so I got out and enjoyed it. My history with dancing came back to me while out there. Going to camp and singing music that you just can't stand still for - lots of jumping around. Going to rock concerts and getting in the pit. Taking guitar lessons and coming home with the groove of the music lodged in my brain and dancing about in the kitchen. Kyle giving me a funk mix CD and having post Christmas dinner silliness with my sisters in the kitchen. Going to Converge and God steadily prompting me to burst out in some rather chaotic movement. Having dance parties at RJ's. House-sitting for people who have big, slippery, wooden floors. So many times, prayer becomes action for me. And dancing has mostly been that way. It's a tie to the music and my spirit, and more importantly God's spirit.

Anyways, as much as I wish (for all things) that I'm getting better, and am not, I still enjoy moving during worship (and still observe the unchanging and predictable song dynamic of certain people - but whatever).

So let's remember this - I still have TWO rock star drinks in collection now that have been sitting and sitting and sitting for more than 2 years now waiting for me to do a concert.