late-night nothings.

Life is sensational.

Fabulous, and phenomenal.

Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, I think "Who am I?" And not as in, "Who am I today--a student, or a seeker, or a solitary thinker?" But, "Who am I to rate another day? Who am I that I should wake up, and breath, and live again to praise you?"

Unrelated Secret: I got over my fear. I worshiped, Wednesday, wholly, and in the way I felt my heart leading me. And it was good. I smile, in the remembering.

I don't put a fine point on my worship because I think that outwardly expressive worship is necessary. But because when I feel an impulse to worship, and I deny it out of fear of judgment, or seeming "silly," it's as though I'm denying God. So I've asked myself, "Ash, if you won't submit to God here in front of these people in a way so simple, will you follow the way He leads your heart in matters much larger?" That is, if I want to lift my arms to him in submission and praise, but refuse to do so in front of others, what else will I keep from Him?

Not good. But We're moving in the right direction.

Thursday night. Unbelievable prayer lesson: be silent. Not my strong suit. I was finishing up some writing, about to head, and I just felt that I needed to put down the papers, turn down the lights, and meet Him. So I did. Sometimes, I think I'm not really great at prayer, because I don't understand it. I end up just sort of.. chatting, with God. I have needs, and I bring those, but I feel funny asking for specifics. God's gonna do what God's gonna do. I guess. I don't know. So my prayers are kind of like, "Well, Father, I'm really worried about this, and You know how I'd like it to end, but I trust in however You're gonna play this thing, so..."

I get an 'F' for pious prayer.

There was something different on Thursday, though. I felt the stilling of my needful prayer, and instead found myself seeking just to be. To be with Him. My lips fell silent, but my heart spoke. Does that make sense? And in that moment, I understood the reality of God as I never have.

Sometimes, I think that I create god. I've written here before about the distinction I make between my created god, and the Creator God. And at times, I wonder if when I pray, or chat, or be, I am directing that energy towards something fabricated, something unreal. I wonder how I connect with God. But Thursday, He became real. The room changed. The air moved. The world shifted. Something happened.

God showed Himself to me in a way He had not. And that comes with joy. And with fear. And with responsibility.

I am debating whether to write these next lines. If you're reading them, you know the verdict. As We were together, I felt a distinct question. He was asking me, "Will you pray in my spirit?" Now, if you've read this blog before, you probably know that I am somewhat apprehensive about tongues. I am. It's true. Not something I grew up with. Still a little sensational. Definitely an anxious topic for me. But I felt the question, and I understood the request, and I opened up my heart to Him. And, though, I did not in fact, receive that gift, I felt a promise.

I don't know how I feel about that. I don't know that I think it's important to pray in the spirit. I'm not sure that a promise is necessary. But regardless, He gave me one. It was as though He was saying, "If you continue to open your heart, I will bring much more than tongues, but those as well." And I felt calm. Not worried, not anxious, not scared, or apprehensive, or self-conscious, or even desperate.

I don't think the promise is specific, though. So, if you continue to open your heart to Him, He will bring you much more than tongues. Those too.