Sunday, February 21, 2016

The Great Hall

I sat with a cup of Casi Cielo coffee looking out into the yard this morning. We have this perfect little round table - the tall bistro table kind that I got for a steal from craigslist when we first moved to Boise. I sat on the wood stool and propped my elbows on the table's edge cupping my coffee between two hands. In front of me was my bible. I had it opened to Psalm 119.

Chris sat next to me with his coffee and his bible as well. He had finished having his time with Jesus on his own, and we had even talked over our weekend conferences that we attended. God had reminded us of a number of things we needed to step forward in faith for during our times apart this weekend. The Holy Spirit also spoke to us individually about the same things - new things we needed to learn.

Chris' eyes closed as he started to pray out loud. He named the people in our church, and people in our neighborhood - people that we love - asking God to help them, encourage them, and lift them up. He asked Jesus to draw them in - to renew and restore them. He asked God to give us courage, and grow us as a family called to this city - and to help us trust Him for our needs.

Then as he finished, I began. I read Psalm 119, verses 10-49. I prayed out changing all of the I's in those verses to we's. It seemed to fit. To fit where we were this morning and where we were headed. Just Chris and I and the King.

I love moments like this.

There's something about simply being in the Presence of the King of kings at my round bistro table with my coffee in hand and a book full of words that point toward His heart.

Have you tried it recently? To talk to Him? It's so worth it.

When I close my eyes to speak to God, I feel as if the small space I'm in opens up and I am suddenly in this Great Hall, just the King and me. He's always smiling when my eyes find Him in the expansive space. Always. It's like He's been waiting for me. Nobody has ever told me what I'm supposed to "experience" when I'm praying. I was taught as a child that praying was a way to simply talk to God. That's totally true. He talks back too. But this sort of way I meet with the King is always amazing to me.

He fixes me. He can fix my heart with only a few moments of stepping toward Him. I walk in, distraught, frustrated, and exhausted, and within seconds, my heart relaxes, and I begin to hope again. That's the best. To hope again.

I'm never afraid in His Presence. Not ever. Nothing in me is ashamed or bashful. I can hardly wait to talk to Him - even if I've done something wrong. Because He's ready. He's always ready for me. He can hardly wait for me to talk and then longs to respond and speak to me. Well, I guess there's times He wants me to just listen - and not talk. I'm thankful for His patience too.

I don't know why I'm writing this. Perhaps because it was just a Great Hall kind of morning with my King. Those mornings shape me. I'm changed and continually transformed as a result of those conversations. I need more of them.

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