He Restored My Rest.
Last night was a good night. We had worship practice in our usual location – The Asylum Haunted Warehouse. It’s not as bad as that, only an “asylum” at Halloween, the rest of the year the landlord leases rooms to local bands. Since we don’t have a church base (we also rent an event center for Sunday morning services) we meet in The Asylum Haunted Warehouse for practice. The only dilemma is that, as of early January, a less-than-average metal band practices every Thursday night right next door. But they practice at +700 volume. We can’t hear ourselves and truly they can’t hear what they’re doing either.
Last night was a particularly great evening, though, because we are getting closer as a band. There are 7 of us (lead guitar/vocalist, 2nd guitar, base, violin, drums and two backup vocalists). Not only are we trying to get to know each other personally, but our trust and comfort levels have risen since the first set we played. I am not the only female – hooray! And my girl partner is about my age, super chill and easy to get close to.
You know how sometimes God moves unexpectedly in the midst of your talents and limitations and your heart is left on its’ knees? Yeah, that happened. I got to a point in the midst of worship, while crying out in song, where I thought “God, I hate my life right now,” and then all of a sudden He moved without words and eclipsed the complaints and striving of my soul. He didn’t say a thing. He allowed me to sing and, through singing, He restored my rest. My peace. My joy.
I cannot get to the bottom of Him. I know I never will. But I want to go as deep as He’ll take me.