Part of my mind drifted during a meeting tonight, a chain reactor series-esque leaping from thought to thought. A good moment in a sermon ignites a thought, and bang! I am an “intuitive processor,” so frequently arrive at places without knowing all of the steps that it took me to get there. Increasing the fun factor is my inability to turn off my analyzer.
Part of my mind generally spends time watching what my spirit would look like if the spiritual event were to occur here in the regular old stratosphere, and in its freedom my spirit does some wildly funny and endearing stuff. I’ll bring her over sometime.
Bent forward with my eyes closed, I listened to the message a neighboring district superintendent brought, puzzling in a thankful way for coming into a conversational kind of closeness with Christ. We converse a lot, an ongoing, lifestyle style of chatting. We’re comfortable enough that He has zero problem interrupting me mid-thought, repeatedly interrupting if I’m having a stubborn day. I dig that kind of truthfulness.
Water images make up much of my prayer picture life lately, and this continued the theme. I watched my spirit (who runs around in a lovely but very dirty dress with the long, curly unbrushed hair of an adventurous 5-year-old). Her hands were clasped behind her back, as she leaned ever so slightly forward, swaying back and forth with each heavy step as if she were a very heavy and sulky elephant. She was analyzing, trying to retroactively identify the steps that brought her down this path far from home. She was thinking so hard that what actually surrounded her failed to register. She stopped…looked down between her feet…and her mouth fell open. The standard path veered off around a bend, but her path led her directly into the water. Except that her feet were on the water, not in it. No movement. Nary a twitch. Energy built up to volcanic levels, but she hesitated to cease marveling at her situation.
For a few seconds anyway. And then, she got it! It was not the steps that mattered so much; it was the conversation with Christ. A simple act of “being.” Being with Him, seeking Him, she forgot to focus on the steps so her life just flowed right into the realm of miraculous. Her head still bent forward, a smile crept (and kept on creeping for a good ways) across her face. And she jumped, still watching the water. Only now, there were ripples. She jumped, watching the ripples move farther and farther with each jump, laughing, “Look! Just look at that!”
Rain began to dribble down. She tossed that smile up to the sky, arms overhead to touch the rain on its way down and laughed again, “Look what you were doing when I wasn’t looking! I had no idea you could do all that while we were just talking!”
Precisely.
Tenaciousweed's Weblog 