I've already alluded to some of what God was doing in my heart at Verge in my post, pastor dad. I may restate some of what I already shared in that post but I recommend that you read it too.
Where do I begin?
After Matt Carter and Francis Chan were done speaking, we took communion and began a time of worship. I remember after a phenomenal worship set that Francis got back up on stage, which was not scheduled. Francis shared that he felt that we needed to have some time of confession. I watched as he knelt down on stage with his head bowed and he began to pray/cry out to God about his own short comings as a leader. I have never seen such transparency from such a well respected church leader. He pleaded for Jesus to guide him. Then is was our turn. The entire place was quiet except for some sniffles of other people also crying and confessing.
I sat in my chair with my head bowed asking God what He wanted me to confess. Then I heard a voice deep within my soul tell me to get on my knees.
I hesitated.
Then I responded with a few questions, "Really? Can't I just lean forward in my chair like most other people do?"
He replied, "If you can't get on your knees in front of a bunch of your peers and church leaders, how are you going to stand for me anywhere else?"
Wow. That was just so true. So I stood up and moved out into the aisle and knelt down before God.
"Now what?" I respectfully inquired.
"Confess," He very promptly replied.
"Confess what?"
"How much do you love others?" He asked me.
Ouch. Now I know that it was God. I would never ask myself that question.
I began to confess how I often chose my own agenda over helping others and how I really didn't have much interest in opening up my life to my neighbors. It was a lot of soul tearing, heart crushing stuff. I then began to sob as I prayed.
Yes, sob. Like the kind of sob that you can't help but hear. The kind of sob that makes your chest heave from sorrow. The sorrow in my heart was not a fearful sorrow but a sorrow that was deeply remorseful for not loving God and others as my Spirit knew how to do.
I could feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. Yet, it felt like it was coated with that topping that you put on ice cream so that it forms a shell-like exterior. My heart had been coated with a shell-like callousness that God was breaking in that moment.
It's not like I don't love people. But God was challenging me on how much I loved others; how much I was willing to give. He made it clear to me that He had put hundred of people that he cares about in my life and He wanted to know what I was going to do about it. How was I going to show them His love? How was I going to tangibly re-present Christ to them?
My heart felt free. It was soft. The shell-like exterior was completely gone.
I did not stop having His Spirit flowing into my soul and heart. He spoke to me that my first mission in life was to my own family- my wife and son. He also said that although they were my first priority mission, that I need not use that as an excuse to not engage the hundreds of others around me. He pointed out to me that there are about 35-40 people that I know pretty well in my own neighborhood and fifteen that I can tell you a part of their story. God impressed on my now soft heart that He wanted to know what I was going to do about the fifteen. How would I love them so well that they had to ask why I loved them this way? He wanted me to love them that sacrificially... then point them to Christ and His love.
The conversation that He started kept going and kept me awake until 1:30 that morning. I kept asking God to keep my heart that soft, that malleable. I didn't want the callous back.
|
composed by
dave
|
