I showed up, tired, wondering why I had gotten up so early that morning, but I was excited to be there. I was determined to meet God, experience his presence and hear from Him. I had purchased my ticket determinedly. I arrived with expectation. When I found my seat I was content. And then more people began sitting around me and I was getting distracted, lacking the focus that my tiredness was zapping from me, and since I wasn’t enjoying the opening, and my phone equally zapped, I grabbed my charger and headed for the lobby.
The cushy theatre lobby carpeted floor provided for a great seat with plenty of outlets. I parked myself next to one, hit airplane mode and sat there with my eyes closed for a few minutes. As I watched the battery percentage rise, I found myself laying down next to the wall, just outside the entrance. I was a little frustrated that I was out here and that I wasn’t enjoying the music in there, but I was too tired to fight it.
After intermission I headed back in, happy that all was fully charged and even feeling abit more energized myself. I was enjoying and connecting with every song. I knew why I was here and I needed to get on my face and my knees. I walked slowly to the side and rear of the theater and found plenty of open space and solitude. As I prayed I sensed God’s voice and I knew what I had to do. I quickly texted a friend what I had to do to back me up and after some time, I headed back to my seat for the end. After the encore, I just sat there, taking it all in. People all around me were leaving, and I sat still. Then, this sweet young girl named Marie courageously approached me and asked if she could pray for me. Of course I said yes and I was amazed by the wisdom and timeliness of her prayer for me. Words I needed to hear. I thanked her and walked slowly to the entrance as I ordered a car to come pick me up and take me home.
Everytime Kari Jobe releases a new album, I’m always amazed at how much I connect to the themes of her music, the seasons of life that shaped those songs and the words and prayers that are sent back to God. This was no different. But so different from her previous album. Her album releases at the end of this month and I am already counting down because I can’t wait to listen to the songs that spoke to my heart this weekend. Songs reminding me where to find my satisfaction and contentment and how loved and who I am. (I am all He says I am, and He says I am His own)
You don’t just move to a new place and start over. Not at 29. When you move across the country at 29 God breaks you. He purges you of all the ugly. Ugly motives, ugly hopes, ugly ambitions. He sternly invites you to please let go of the junk that is holding you back. To mature and grow in wisdom and to break the hard, calloused heart you had, put your dreams in the fire and walk away from everything. Sell your car. Sell your iPad. Change everything. But in place of that broken calloused heart, in the midst of rejection and vulnerability and risk and loneliness, he comes rushing in and makes you fall back in love with him like you have never loved him before. And this tenderness that came as a result of all of these things…this journey, this process…the pain, the hurt, and the buckets of tears. Owning up to the sin and junk in my heart. The pride, and anger and jealousy and envy and entitlement. Owning it all and begging God to clear it all away.
And somewhere in this process, through the dark winter of the soul, he rescued me. He showed up. With open arms and is leading me through a transition that I know nothing about. And I’m not afraid. Because he is trustworthy. And I don’t feel that stubborn resistance rising up anymore, and that openness is freeing, grace, and full of life. Open. I just feel open. Open hands, open heart, open for Him. For His plans. For His Love. For His Goodness. For His Peace. For His Joy. I’m open. And I couldn’t be more excited to be in this place. I can’t wait to dance.