Blanketed by glory
My eyes closed and sleep threatened to overtake me. I wanted to fight it but the day had been long and my body, tucked into the corner of a soft sofa, was tired, and the music was peaceful.
It wasn’t difficult to be still.
I listened to the music and let myself rest quietly, hoping I wouldn’t regret permitting myself to become so relaxed. The song ended and a new one began, one equally peaceful.
Suddenly I was very awake. The presence of God was thick and heavy in the room, and even though I was instantly alert, I couldn’t really open my eyes without a huge struggle. For that matter, I couldn’t move.
And I didn’t want to.
I waited as the music played. I didn’t know what I was waiting for, but since I could neither move nor open my eyes, it just seemed like the right thing to do.
I began to see pictures. I listened, but any words bypassed my ears and simply landed in my heart. I asked for wisdom to understand what I saw. And then my body began to tremble and tingle, as if low-level electricity was coursing through it.
The others in the room occasionally spoke, and although I listened to them, I was still lightly pinned down by that glorious weighty presence. I occasionally attempted to open my eyes, but they quickly fell shut again. My eyelids were too heavy to hold open.
That beautiful Presence stayed for quite a while, gracing us with His peace. But gradually the weight lifted, although the peace remained.
In the hours afterward I found myself still awed by what I experienced in that room. We’d all experienced something during that time, even though we experienced it differently one from another.
I never cease to be amazed at how personal and intimate He is when He interacts with His kids. He knows exactly what we need and what will bless us and grow us, but He doesn’t bother with making all our experiences “equal” or “fair”.
No, He seems to be in the custom-encounter business. And I like that about Him.