A Sight to See

I'd like to preface this (for what it's worth) by saying I'm not Pentecostal. Whatever you would think of in terms of "conservative," that's probably me. I have a friend who worked at a Baptist church for awhile and he thought that church was conservative. I'm more conservative than that, in practice of my "religion" (although, really, I'm not a fan of that word!). I tend to be pretty straight laced and traditional. That isn't to say I don't believe in miracles (they totally happen!) or expressing emotions in worship (uh - just don't ask ME to dance, please!), I'm just wary. I'm wary of things I cannot logically set apart from myself and analyze and come up with a good reason for it.

With that in mind, I'm not trying to convince you (my, like, one reader!) of anything specifically. I'm just going to tell you a little about myself.

When I was 14 and at my youth group's summer camp, during chapel service one morning or afternoon or evening - I don't remember which - I had an experience that has stuck with me ever since. I don't know if it was anything supernaturally special - I have a pretty good imagination, so it might have just been that... but hey, who says God cannot speak to us through our imagination?! Look at Narnia or Lord of the Rings!

Anyhow.

I was praying, and just talking to God about stuff, which I don't even remember now, and I saw myself as a small child standing at the foot of a set of HUGE stone doors. I was scared to go inside. It was a castle of some kind, but really more vast than I could understand. I knew that God was on the other side of those doors. And I didn't want to interrupt anything happening inside his throne room. But then I noticed an impressive and slightly intimidating man standing beside the door, and he said very kindly, "You can go inside, Dani. It's OK. You're welcome." Then he opened the door for me. I stepped through, and I know there were people around, but I don't know who or what they were doing, but I just stood there at the back of the room for a second. Then I focused on the figure sitting on the huge throne at the front of the room, and I saw him motioning toward me. I started to walk slowly, then faster, then I was running for the front of that huge, great, cavernous room. I ran right up a seemingly huge flight of stairs to get up to the same level as that throne, and I was picked up inside massively huge arms, and held against a safe, secure, chest.

I was held in the arm of God. I will never, no matter how long I live, forget that sensation. It felt like I was disappearing inside the safety of his heart.

This picture doesn't exactly reflect it, but it's about as close as I can get on google images to the picture I see in my head:

Sunday I went to the beach for some alone time. It was wonderful, but that's a story for another day. For the second time, I saw something that I think is significant to me on varying levels.

There wasn't a specific moment I saw this, it was different than last time, but I realized as I was driving home that I had a certain image in my head: I see myself standing at the edge of a great, huge, vast canyon-ish landscape in front of me. It looks amazing. Full of mystery, and huge, and almost incomprehensible, but I also have the most incredible peace looking at it. Rather than feeling stressed like I would imagine myself feeling if I were to ever stand in that position and see a canyon like that spread out before me, I just feel, again, safe and secure. Rather than feeling like I don't have nearly enough time to explore that whole canyon, I know I've got all the time I'll need. And that'll never be enough.

I think the canyon/landscape is God. And he's inviting me to come, explore, understand, investigate, and interact with him. I'm on the cusp of stepping into a deeper, more intimate, more specialized experience with God, but in this brief moment, I get to see a large glimpse of who and what he is, and it is absolutely awe inspiring. It goes on and on. And it's absolutely thrilling to know that I'll go on and on and get to investigate to my heart's contentment.

This isn't exactly it, but it's as close as I can get again:

Anyhow. It's kind of exciting to feel like God is pushing me outside my comfort zones and breaking down my boxes by revealing things to me through alternative mediums...