I Danced

12 Aug

Driving up the M5 on a grey Sunday afternoon I was a shaky, wobbly mess. My thoughts were a whirlwind, my stomach shot by a thousand tiny icicles of fear.
I arrived with a car-load of children and borrowed camping gear, under a drizzle-heavy sky.

Despite the kind, warm welcomes of those who had arrived hours earlier and were all set up with kettles boiling and biscuits spilling out of neatly organised larders, my only desire was to make a swift about-turn and get myself back on the motorway as soon as possible.

I felt grim.
My head was spinning, my heart racing, and I wanted to hide.
And cry. A lot.

That night it rained and rained and rained.
And rained.
And I really did.not.sleep.
Not a wink.

Needless to say I’m not all that keen on camping….

But then it all started to shift. Ever so slightly at first. God was whispering to me. Wooing me. Beckoning me back into the comfort, the safety of His enormous, mind-boggling, furious love through some of the most passionate corporate worship I’ve ever experienced.

By Thursday evening, it was all beginning to make sense. The chaos, the tiredness, the weakness. Me being there in spite of the hardship. I had made it through the first few days; almost hourly I had been wondering how much longer I could last, with a 10 year-old child who needed pushing around everywhere in a giant pushchair because he was too tired – or too stubborn – to walk.

Like well-oiled cogs, a perfectly tuned engine, the way God engineered every single bit of teaching to speak straight into my weary heart was utterly wonderful. I went from feeling insignificant to knowing I am instrumental in God’s Kingdom; from feeling weak and weary to feeling powerful and dangerous; from feeling frightened and anxious to feeling bold and courageous.

And then there was the dancing….

In a marquee the size of a football pitch, no – bigger than that, big enough to fit at least 7,000 adults, (…well it was a HUGE marquee anyway!) the seating was claustrophobic suffocating cramped to say the least. The first couple of meetings in there, I struggled.
Then we were given an open invitation to come and worship at the front, where there were no seats – and that’s when the freedom came. Martin Smith beckoned some of us to come up on stage and jump up and down dance. And so just like that, I ran up on stage with a handful of other much younger guys and girls.
And I danced.
In front of 7,000 people.
In front of Jesus.
It was exhausting, funny, exhilarating.

It was magnificent.

And now I am filled with joy and feel freer than I have for months.

God is after our hearts. He pursues us relentlessly, wants to be in relationship with us; he wants freedom for us. And healing. And peace. And joy. Oh that we would let go and allow Him in…

Joy is peace dancing and peace is joy resting


4 Responses to “I Danced”

  1. pinknikkij August 12, 2013 at 9:08 pm #

    So, so pleased that you found such peace and joy. I only wish I could have stayed longer than a day and watched the beautiful tightly closed bud that you are begin to open into the most amazing flower. God has great things waiting for you as soon as you feel strong 🙂

    • heavenlyelevenses August 14, 2013 at 9:26 am #

      Nikki – it was a life changing week. Wish you’d been there for all of it too!
      …next year….?? Love ya xx

  2. Valérie Bailey August 14, 2013 at 9:20 am #

    Well done for finding it in your heart to enjoy this despite all the pressures put upon a mother 🙂 *admiration*

    • heavenlyelevenses August 14, 2013 at 9:27 am #

      Thank you 🙂 God made me enjoy it in spite of my best intentions *not to* at first…! Guess he got his way in the end 😉 xx

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: