come on, now.

Four times in the last year and a half, I've felt the voice of God. Not heard it. But felt it. Felt Him speaking to me, distinctly, strongly, placing in me insatiable desires for prayer, for worship, and sacrifice, and love.

I'm not going to tell you what He told me tonight, because I'd sound crazy, and you wouldn't believe me anyway, and who really cares. But I'll tell you how beautiful it was.

Tonight, friends, I went to my first real, big Christian rock concert. Several years too late, but every bit as crazy as any student of religion could hope for. There was whooping, and hollering, waving, shouting, and some dude down front who kept yelling "Come on, now!" in a deep, country drawl. It delivered.

Chris Tomlin was great. Louie Giglio was the bomb diggity.

But, forget them. Forget the lyrics, and the lights, and the fact that, at the start, it all seemed a little like a documentary about Jesus youth culture.

There were these moments of breath-taking, awe-some, heart-stopping beauty. Tomlin would stop singing, and the music would swell, and I'd look out over the crowd, bathed in golden light, and see the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life. Thousands of hands, I mean thousands, of faces lifted to Heaven, and the sound. Friends, the sound. Worship. It was worship.

Even now, I'm thinking about it, I'm picturing it, and I lean my head against the back of the arm chair, literally weak with awe. I know that sounds melodramatic. Sue me, I don't care. It was stunning.

And He spoke. I felt it deep in my heart. A promise, a challenge, most of all--a proclamation, a gift. Confirmation.

There's a lot more to say. Music is potent. Songs and memories of them brought me to tears, because they reminded me that God has been faithful to me. I'd love to tell you every detail of every song that touched me tonight, because in the telling, you'd hear a story of redemption. A story with an ending I could not have imagined. With so many more unimaginable endings to come.

Indescribable.