A beginning?

Last night was a good night. God spoke to me and through me, and I feel like a new chapter in my life has begun. The seeds of...something just starting to bud.

It started out inauspiciously, as most days do: I worked 9am-5pm, a long tiring shift. I really don't like working Sundays. It doesn't matter that I get other days off in a week--if I have to work Sunday I just don't feel as rested. It's firmly cemented in my subconscious as the day to rest. Sunday is for getting up slowly, reading some of the paper with a mug of steaming chai tea in hand, then heading over to church, then home again for more newspaper reading and hanging out with family and just being. Anyways, my church had an evening service last night due to Thanksgiving. I was debating about going, because I was tired and sore after work. My right knee has been aching this week, and I just feel very worn out. But I usually get to go to Sunday services only twice a month because of my work schedule, so I went.

I drove over there half an hour early, because my favorite restaurant, the Wilde Roast Cafe, is about three blocks south of where my church meets. I usually don't walk that far without my leg braces, but I really, really like Wilde Roast's chai tea. It was a perfect cool, crisp evening in Northeast Minneapolis: no wind, the stars peeking through the scattered clouds, and the city....oh, that skyline! As a city girl, I love my skyline, especially at night. Downtown Minneapolis has a lot of skyscrapers that are mostly wrapped in glass. It glitters and shimmers like a jewel after the sun goes down. It was unusually quiet last night as I walked. The rhythm of my boots hitting the sidewalk and the distant ever present sound of the highway were all that I heard. It was glorious to be honest. There were a few people here and there ahead of me, but pretty much it was just me and the city. It has a song, you know. On night's like that you can really hear the city sing. To me, it's beautiful. I got my chai tea and headed back. I was walking along St. Anthony Main,which has this old world feel to it, with uneven cobblestone sidewalks. I looked up this stairway that leads up the hill...and there was an old church all lit up, its stained glass windows shining out into the night. It was just perfect. "Thank you, God." He knows me so well--I'm easily pleased with little moments like that. And again, no one else was about. I was already glad I'd decided to come to church. It was quiet and beautiful....and expectant. It's hard to explain, but I feel God's presence in moments like that. Not like I could reach out and touch Him, but just that He's there; and I know He orchestrated that particular instance for me because it gave me such quiet joy. I was ready for church after my brisk walk and warm drink.

And church was amazing. It was a special Thanksgiving service, so no sermon, just worship music and an open mic for people to share about God's goodness in their lives. There was a little thing off to the side for people to write down an "Ebenezer," which means "stone of help or testimony," a memorial to what God has done. As soon as I heard that, I felt God poking me to get up and speak.

Over the last few months, I've been having "stone of testimony" be brought up by different sources that are completely unrelated to each other. When that happens, I listen, because obviously, God's trying to get something through to me. I feel like He's telling me to stop living in fear and be bold, to speak out about what He's done in my life. It started when I wrote the full story of my wings to a pen pal friend, then I felt convicted to share that story so publicly on this blog. And last night, I felt I had to share some of that testimony at church. I really don't like public speaking, by the way. I literally tremble when I'm standing in front of others like that. So I sat and fidgeted in my chair, my heart in my throat, knowing I had to get up, walk to the front and turn and face the crowd...and speak. I sat through others' stories and was the last one to share. I couldn't not do it. I was compelled, though my heart was beating like crazy.

My mind had been spinning, trying to figure out the right words, to make it pretty and polished. I mentally hushed myself as I stood. If God wanted me to speak, He would give me the words to say. And so I shared about how God has been teaching me about stones of testimony recently, that when He brings the same message from different sources, I need to listen and obey what I hear. I said I'm thankful for freedom, that Christ has redeemed and saved me from darkness.I gave a brief background on my wings and how I am a living stone of testimony to God's goodness.
I was open, vulnerable, honest; my body shook and I thought my voice trembled. I had to rest my free hand on the podium, because it was shaking so badly. I spoke briefly of being abused and the darkness and isolation that I felt. How hard it is to speak of it, because the devil wants us to think we're alone and no one else would want to know, that they would be disgusted. The shame, guilt, fear and self loathing that overwhelm and isolate. The thought that, "No one can know, it's too dark, too disgusting....too shameful. I feel unclean and unworthy." But I said that God doesn't want me to live in fear anymore. He was redeemed me, walking into my darkness and not leaving me there. He wants to me to be bold and speak of what He has done in my life. That without Him, His goodness and mercy, I would be bereft and broken. I know goodness and light because I have experienced evil and darkness. I can say God IS GOOD from experience not sappy naivete. Life is not a Thomas Kinkade painting, I know that...but there is still good to be found, it's just not the "everything is always kittens and rainbows" kind. It's goodness forged like gold refined through fire.

I spoke for a few minutes, then walked back to my seat and sat down. After the service, I had multiple people come up to me and thank me for sharing. I had a few really good conversations, with the possibility of forging some deeper connections. I've been attending this church off and on since this summer...but something changed last night. I'm not an outsider anymore. I mean, I didn't feel excluded at all before...but there was an irrevocable change, a forging of....something. I'm not quite sure yet, but it feels like a beginning to something good. I mentioned to Hannah after I got home last night, that it feels like a new chapter in my life is getting underway, that there's promise of something deeper and challenging (in a good way) coming my way. We shall have to see where this story leads.