Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Warmth on a Cold Sunday Morning

This past Sunday I went to church as usual. I woke up that morning tired and depressed, and wanted to stay in bed and sleep all day, but I learned a long time ago that the days you most want to hide from the world are the days you most need to spend time in God's house. So I went.

We were singing our second song of the morning, and I just wasn't feeling it. I was angry about events that had transpired the day before. With a husband and two teenagers to raise (yes, I meant that exactly as it sounds), I often find myself angry for extended periods of time. But on that morning, I knew I really needed the Holy Spirit to invade my heart in a big way. As we paused to pray before singing the next song, I asked God to replace my anger with love and forgiveness. While my thoughts were on my desperate need for the Holy Spirit, I felt a desire to hear a song we seldom sing as a congregation, Holy Spirit, by Francesca Battistelli.

When the worship leader said, "Amen", I turned my attention to the screen overhead, ready to sing the next song. Did I really see the title Holy Spirit??? Could there be a different song by that name? But no, it was the song I so longed to hear, the very song I felt might comfort my aching soul.

I'm a skeptic. Not that I don't believe God can do anything He wants, any time. But I'm a human being, accustomed to thinking in terms of this world, and I often fail to remember just how big and powerful and in control our God is. I know He hears our prayers and the longing of our hearts. I just forget sometimes that even when the world drowns out my desperate cries, God is able to hear my whispers.

The moment we began to sing that song, I felt the warmth of God's love wash over me, accompanied by a feeling not unlike a child who received the Christmas gift they most wanted but least expected.. It was never more clear to me that God hears our prayers. Even those of a selfish sinner like me.