I must confess, I went out of curiosity more than anything and with expectations of being an observer rather than a participant.
But I should have known.
I should have known that my walls would come crumbling down. Should have known that the shroud covering my heart would be gently pulled away.
They are just too good at what they do. And His spirit is too mighty. Especially in those moments where I am forced to be still. And quiet.
SPACE, they call it. SPACE. What is SPACE? Well, let me tell you what SPACE was for me…
When I walked in an immediate quiet surrounded me. Not just an audible quiet. A complete quiet. Instantly, without my even intending for it to, this caused my spirit to take a deep breath.
Dozens of candles flickered across the front of the room. They, along with a few strands of soft white lights that had been wrapped around some wooden beams were all that lit the space. Black curtains hung around the room’s edges. A small stage, an area rug, a few scattered chairs and four “stations” completed the gathering of items with which my eyes connected. Several dozen people had arrived before me. Some were sitting. Some were standing. A track of soothing music played very softly in the background. I grabbed a sheet of paper from the table by the door and settled onto a spot on the rug that had been layed in the middle of the floor. I glanced down at the words covering the paper that I held in my hand.
“SPACE is designed to be a soul environment – a sacred, reflective time for prayer and calibration. Our hope is that you experience the love story of Jesus through this environment and feel the freedom to journal, pray, reflect, or just rest at the feet of the Father. We are glad you are here. Be still. Listen. Reflect.”
After reading these words, curiosity about the four stations pulled me back to my feet and I began a slow walk around the outer edge of the room. A few minutes into this time Leslie, David and a woman who’s face I did not recognize, took the stage. I returned to my spot on the rug. Moments later Leslie’s soothing voice filled the room, inviting everyone to worship with them through music if we so desired, or just continue on with what we were already doing if that was where we needed to be.
And for the next hour, with Leslie on her guitar, David at the piano and the stranger accompanying with a violin, I was swept away. I couldn’t even sing. I could only sit and weep. Weep unexplained tears. Not tears of sadness. Or anger. Or disappointment. Not tears of regret or pain or fear. Not even tears of joy. Just tears from a soul overwhelmed to be sitting in the presence of my Father’s Spirit. Soul environment. This is what they mean when they say soul environment.
After a half hour of tears, a half hour without a clear thought in my head, I received a message so penetrating, I couldn’t’ve ignored it if I’d wanted to: My soul needs the white noise to be quieted. My soul is desperate for it. For several breaths I just sat in the clarity of that moment. But that wasn’t all that would come to me. Moments later a rush of words began running into my mind. I grabbed my paper and hastily wrote them all down.
– Get out of the city.
– Get rid of stuff.
– Get off of the computer.
– Turn off the t.v.
– Rebuke the lies in your head.
– Pray. Pray. Pray.
– Keep reading.
– Keep writing.
– Love your children.
– Love your husband.
– Cherish your family and your true friends.
I am still meditating on these thoughts today. As well as a few more thoughts:
Our souls are longing to be fed. They are desperate for nourishment.
Everyday we feed our faces. Our egos. Our desires. Our impulses.
But how often do we feed our souls?
And how do we? What does this even look like? Sound like? Feel like?
We must begin this soul journey. Or continue it if it has already begun.
For truly, our very lives, our very souls depend on it.
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I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. A lot of thinking. Even more than usual. I have been questioning things I’ve never questioned before. Questioning everything really. Around and round I go each day, the ground shaking beneath me, shifting and turning, keeping me from nailing much down. But as much as I’ve been questioning, as many things as I’ve been rethinking, there are these few that I keep coming back to.
2echoEcho 