Yesterday, as Rich put a wrap on another great teaching at Vineyard Columbus, he invited a couple groups to come forward for prayer. I’ve never gone forward for prayer eventhough there’s been more than once or twice that I’ve thought he’s gotta be speaking to me. I tend to resist being moved, you could say.
Yesterday, as tons of folks made their way forward, the small but mighty Vineyard band began to sing our final worship song. Sometimes I sing and sometimes I simply listen and let the sound penetrate my personal silence. Yesterday, I felt like singing. I never really belt it out, you know what I mean. I sing, but I don’t cut loose. My voice pretty much sucks and I’m more than just a little aware. I’ve learned to sing, anyway.
Yesterday, however, was a bit out of the norm. As I sang and took in the moment, my ears heard something faintly and then a bit louder. I wasn’t certain what I was hearing but I had a pretty good idea. Before I knew what was happening, my eyes were filled with moisture and my voice was beginning to crack. Two more seconds, and, suddenly, nothing was coming out. All my minds resources were shuttled quickly from my vocal cords to closing my tear ducts. Nothing was working. I wept, quietly.
You see, yesterday, as I sang along at the end of worship service in Westerville, my son, Taylor, sang along. He belted out his praise without a filter. He sang from a thankful heart and you could feel it. He awoke something in me and stirred my soul.
Thank you, God, for teachers like Rich. And, God, thank you for teachers like Tay. God, please bless them both as much as they continue to bless me. It is good to be stirred by them. God, help me allow your Spirit to move me and send me.
God, help me…
BUILT TO LEAD 