Oh, those God moments

Have you had any of those moments, I mean really had those moments? The kind of moment you know that God is sitting right there, and things are different? The kind of moment you absolutely know you had nothing to do with? The kind of moment when the sweetness of the air is extenuated, and you feel glad you’ve simply had breath to live through that moment?

Yeah, I haven’t had that many either. But truthfully, I had a bit of one today. I was in the first day of the Leadership Institute at the Church of the Resurrection in Leawood, Kansas. COR of 18,000 plus members. COR of Adam Hamilton, he of such wit and style and ability.

I had, as I usually do, missed one worship opportunity I wish I had taken, instead falling into this thing called Embraced by God, which sounded suspiciously like something I wanted to have happen but like nothing that would help me in all the leadership areas I figured I needed the most help in. In other words, I was doing all the logical thinking I’m so susceptible to falling into and not nearly enough allowing the Holy Spirit to guide me.

I walked into a room filled with women, something that makes my neck itch normally. There was this African-American person at the front of the room who smile and told me to come on in. She was working with the sound system, and warbled a couple of notes. I wondered what the heck I had found myself in, this being a person who once went to a Weight Watchers meeting thinking it to be another kind and wondered how all these heavy people had wound up in a AA meeting. I spent 45 minutes in the meeting before I figured out I was in the wrong place.

Anyway, I wandered in and sat.

Waiting.

A few men made it in late, but they made it in. My comfort level increased.

Then it hit me. I’ve heard of Babbie Mason, the person whose name was on the workshop title. A singer. A Gospel singer. Didn’t know how or when, but I knew I had heard of her.

Then the three hours passed like honey on the tongue. We talked, at length, about the 17^th Gospel of John. I was able to see, for the first time really, that Jesus was – is – praying FOR ME. Me. Unsettled. Unremarkable. Unintelligent at times and way, way to over-valued by moi at other times.

Me. He’s praying for me. He’s promising me safety. He wants to love me even when, maybe especially when, I’m incapable of showing his glory, which is about the only thing I’m prepped for, actually. He is sending me on a mission, to tell the truth. He is sending me on a mission

.

Notice all the me’s? Yeah, me, too.

All this from a couple hours talking about a book of the Gospel I’ve read numerous times.

When reflecting in small groups, I listened to all the various talk about such and such and labels this and that, then I said, “I’m amazed that God put me in exactly the position he wanted me in, and that is for me to learn to be a leader, I’ve got to once again work on my following skills. I’ve got to understand how much he loves me. I’ve got to learn how much he cares. To do that, I wound up in a workshop I never meant to be in.”

That afternoon, I sat in one I meant to be in. Got nothing out of it to speak of. Oh, some ideas and such. But God was in the morn.

Funny how that works, isn’t it?