discouragement and overwhelming tiredness numbed me as i rested my head on the couch pillow. my dry soul could hardly remember being sure of anything. i stared straight ahead, unseeing, trying not to think...
a movement caught my eye. a tiny gray pinpoint. i focused on its movement, uninterested, really. it grew in my field of vision. a pebble. a rock. a cliff. a mountain. closer and closer. knowing gradually dawned. the rock. the mountain. unshakable. never changing. solid. real. big. huge. my fortress. my God. peace grew with the mountain. i was safe. known. loved. i never forgot.
years after I read in Daniel 2...
"...but the stone that struck the statue became a great mountain and filled the whole earth...the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that will never be destroyed, and this kingdom will not be left to another people. it will crush all these kingdoms and bring them to an end, but will itself endure forever."
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
a beginning...
Rev Willis just finished the Friday night sermon, "Will Jesus Come Tonight?", that I had heard twice before. I loved his week of revival sermons. Daddy invited him every year.
every night that week, i held on to the pew with white knuckles when Rev. Willis gave the altar call, repeating to myself, "I don't need to go. i don't need to go." i stared at my hands wondering why i was so moved every night.
this night, i did the same but when the sermon was over, and the hymn and the second call and the final call and the final piano note faded away and and the people began to say goodbye and move out of the sanctuary, i still held onto the pew...and burst into tears. i didn't know why. i just stood there, embarrassed, but helpless to stop the sobbing. people came to see if i was hurt. they got my mother. she said, "Carla, what's wrong? are you hurt? ...are you sick? ...i shook my head...are you upset?...I cried harder...she stared at me. then a softer look came to her face. "Carla, did you want to go to the altar?"
that was it. i didn't know until she asked. yes. i wanted to go to the altar. such a relief to know it.
mom yelled at dad to come here. we walked to the front of the almost empty sanctuary. he and i knelt at the altar and he opened his Bible. his tears dripped on the papery pages as he showed me and read me the passages about God's saving.
we prayed. i asked God to forgive my sins and save me. very simple. very powerful. i felt unearthly peace. i felt very clean.
this was my first conscious encounter with the Holy Spirit's sweet, powerful presence, though i couldn't have named it then. i was saved. i was being saved. he knew what i needed when i didn't know. a beginning.
every night that week, i held on to the pew with white knuckles when Rev. Willis gave the altar call, repeating to myself, "I don't need to go. i don't need to go." i stared at my hands wondering why i was so moved every night.
this night, i did the same but when the sermon was over, and the hymn and the second call and the final call and the final piano note faded away and and the people began to say goodbye and move out of the sanctuary, i still held onto the pew...and burst into tears. i didn't know why. i just stood there, embarrassed, but helpless to stop the sobbing. people came to see if i was hurt. they got my mother. she said, "Carla, what's wrong? are you hurt? ...are you sick? ...i shook my head...are you upset?...I cried harder...she stared at me. then a softer look came to her face. "Carla, did you want to go to the altar?"
that was it. i didn't know until she asked. yes. i wanted to go to the altar. such a relief to know it.
mom yelled at dad to come here. we walked to the front of the almost empty sanctuary. he and i knelt at the altar and he opened his Bible. his tears dripped on the papery pages as he showed me and read me the passages about God's saving.
we prayed. i asked God to forgive my sins and save me. very simple. very powerful. i felt unearthly peace. i felt very clean.
this was my first conscious encounter with the Holy Spirit's sweet, powerful presence, though i couldn't have named it then. i was saved. i was being saved. he knew what i needed when i didn't know. a beginning.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Joy
I'm beginning a "Joy Starts Here" book study in the Fall. Looking forward to it. Hoping to blog with CornerStone missionaries and house of prayer community as we go through it...and anyone else who wants to jump in with us.
This book has been so important to me in the past year. I've only begun learning to respond tenderly to weakness...to be glad to be with who I'm with...to listen...to live like people are more important than things...or problems...because they are...to be present where I am...with my mind on what I'm doing NOW.
It will be great to share thoughts with you. Yay!
Check out these sites...
Joy Starts Here...
Christian Listeners...
CornerStone International
Mission Senders and House of Prayer
This book has been so important to me in the past year. I've only begun learning to respond tenderly to weakness...to be glad to be with who I'm with...to listen...to live like people are more important than things...or problems...because they are...to be present where I am...with my mind on what I'm doing NOW.
It will be great to share thoughts with you. Yay!
Check out these sites...
Joy Starts Here...
Christian Listeners...
CornerStone International
Mission Senders and House of Prayer
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