You sat behind us on Sunday.
Coat worn, a scent of smoke lingering. Humbled, I sat aware of your presence.
Here I came, clothes cleaned, pride adorning. Smugly aware of how your voice, your presence, was invading upon me.
And as the hymns began to play and mouths opened in praise, your voice, strong and out of key rang out. And the Spirit stopped me. I could not sing. Instead I cried out. My heart humbled, begging forgiveness. And then my heart poured out in prayer for you.
Thankful that you sat behind us. Praying for your heart, that the One True God had overturned stone within. Authentic you came, with little to give, and little did you know how much you gave. To me. Brought me face to face with reality. Those with little inherit the kingdom. You brought yourself humbly, with nothing, and here I came with everything, proud and vain. You a picture of the risen Christ…
And slowly my heart drew close, as we sang, your voice blended perfectly, our lips singing out …
“Filled with wonder,
At the mention of Your Name
Jesus, Your Name is Power…”
Your voice cried out “Yes, Lord…Yes, Lord…your name is power.” And the spirit within me cried out YES! You brought me nearer to Jehovah that day, dying to self, to the auras we wear.
Nothing. We need nothing but Jesus, like the woman who gave all she had.
“And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, “Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”
Poverty that goes beyond our daily bread. Internal poverty, of the heart.
Needing only Jesus.
To the woman in black…thank you.
Thank you for bringing me low to see more of Creator God. My need for Him.
I hope to see you again.