It is in the dark that I hear him. A voice confident. Robust. Jocular even. He fills the room, his response to my simple question so immediate, it is without question He was there all along.
I leave off the lights so there is nothing else I see. I want my heart to see. I want my heart to hear. There it is–my spirit inviting my soul to wake: Wake up! Wake up!
I love that sound. A declaration of a soul awaking. A warrior call to live, to not stay sleeping. It is my favorite sound.
My heart unfolds now. It stretches, expands. I know this voice, this beckoning. But this is different. It is not my Father speaking now. It is the Spirit laughing, celebrating.
This. This day.
This is the best day, like all the days. For we—you and I—are separate from the throng. Children who rise. Daughters shielded, protected, fearless in our confidence of who we are.
Do you hear Him say it? His delight at the reminder?
I am yours. You are mine.
In darkness I see us clearly. The sun arising. The light breaking forth, a blanket of white and gold spread out, a banner of welcome, a herald call of Home.
Here is home.
His voice breaks open my senses. I am no longer in the room but in my truest place, the daughter who runs with the horses. Who can stand the strength of the wind.
I am on the field of battle. A million horses. More.
Before the mountains we stand. Armed. Ready. I carry my weapon. It is solid, familiar in my hands.
Stand now, daughters. Stand now, sons. It is up these mountains we climb.
A sea of energy, of hope made new. A band of brothers and sisters more terribly beautiful and powerful, in His name, than any heart can understand.
I know this. I know I see what I cannot yet understand. But I want to see it still. I want to live there, still. For this is the awakening, the call of heaven to move, to arise, to stand up and put on the armor of God here, now. For the time when heavens breaks open and our fullness is realized and our new bodies hold the weight of glory. Finally owned. Finally realized.
Feel it now. Own it now.
Our Father knows how we will most readily recognize His voice. For me, it is the call to stand with Him, the call to rise, the desire to not remain asleep.
While I love to be at his feet, scooped up in his embrace, it is the Spirit’s movement in me that resounds. I want it more. I want the parts of me that resist Him to be thrown into the fire.
Come, God, You’ve done it Jesus. Spirit, I am your dwelling, free.
Yes, you set me free.
Let us not live this day with passivity, asleep to the Spirit’s laughter, the Spirit’s counsel, the Spirit’s energy and love mobilizing our heart to awake, awake, awake!
No more shall we live self-absorbed, afraid, asleep.
Break us wide open, God. Help us follow You, Jesus. Let us run harder, faster, our hearts still and hope-filled and confident.
We know who we are. The mountain climbers. The ones who dance and sing at God’s feet.
How do you invite in Holy Spirit? What happens (and what do you hope happens) when you do?