Sunday, July 20, 2014

At the Feet of Jesus

So much of what I am experiencing here has left me struggling for words. I think sometimes God pulls us out of our context of comfort to highlight who He is. That is exactly what this week in Rwanda has been for me. And the timing could not be more perfect.

All week, I have been hoping and praying that God would give me the courage to truly experiencing everything we are doing, to not just be a casual observer, but to be an authentic and intentional participant. So much of what Adam and I have endured over the last 3+ years on our journey to become parents has been bitterly painful, and a lot of it has left me hesitant to take a risk to do anything that might make me feel too much. Because, after so much hurt, it is easier to hold things at arm's length. It is safer.

But all of that came crashing down this morning.

We went to church. Having never been to Rwanda, I had no idea what to expect. I didn't even know whether the service would be in English. It was. Just like back in the States, we began with praise and worship. Two songs in, we began an OLD favorite of mine.

We fall down.
We lay our crowns.
At the feet of Jesus.
The greatness of
His mercy and love
At the feet of Jesus.
We cry, "Holy, holy, holy."
We cry, "Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lamb."

I have known that song for as long as I can remember. But as I was singing it today, I felt a pull on my heart.

"Baylor, you are not doing the very thing you are singing about."

And for the first time in I don't even know how long, I raised my hands up to God and let myself experience His presence. And I asked Him to help me be brave enough to lay my crowns at His feet, all the things I think I have achieved. Brave enough to let go of what I want, what think my life should look like and to fill my heart and my life with a desire to follow Him and love Him, trust Him wholly and fully and to not hold anything back.

And as my prayers went up, the Holy Spirit came down and the tears poured out. And I experienced God and His powerful presence. In those moments, I was alone with Jesus, and He reminded me that He is trustworthy, that He loves me. And that I can love Him back, even though I am hurting.

When the song was over, all I could manage was, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

I pray that He would make me different. That He would make me better, stronger, braver. That He would remove fear, doubt, anger. I pray that I would be the kind of person who speaks joy, not just from the mountaintop, but from the valley.

I am so thankful that He did not give up on me. Even when I tried to give up on Him.


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