Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.
The house was hopping
Souls set free
The world woken
The Lord spoken to me.
These toes were tappin’
chairs set aside
no sittin’ lookin’ pretty
church is alive…
I would go to church everyday if the Lord spoke to me as He clearly had the house rocking in Orlando… The Brotherhood sung us to heaven and God’s glory shone like the lighthouse these men are. To live their lives for others a gift to humanity and they brought joyful sounds along with them to Orlando.
Enter the gates and bring a joyful sound.
Praise the creation as a soul unbound.
No earthly worries allowed here,
just lay them at the Lord’s feet.
A long time ago, 1992, I was invited to a co-worker’s church. I accepted. I brought my then two year old daughter along and I sat in the farthest pew from the front. I certainly felt unworthy to be in the crowd of rollicking, holy rollers, speaking in the Lord’s temple. I was fallen to the soil in a heap of ash, barely breathing, wanting all breath to cease. But there was an existing spark, buried, and my co-worker recognized and ignited it… well, sort of.
Toward the end of the service people were invited to the alter to be blessed by the Word and she encouraged me to go forward. I took my daughter with me. The Deacons prophesied over us Psalm 91. For those not familiar with the Bible, Psalm 91 concerns angels and their watch over His children.
At the time, I was unfamiliar with the verse and left church feeling no different. About a year later we moved to New York City, my husband obtaining a postdoctoral fellowship with Prof. Danishevsky at Sloan-Kettering Memorial Hospital as a cancer researcher. The Lord knew I needed plenty of help raising a toddler in New York City. He sent His angels to surround my daughter as I navigated the city streets with a two year old who refused to hold my hand. She had two near-death experiences, but an unseen hand saved her from perishing.
New York City was a wake up call. I am quite naive about the earth’s perils. The world is a dangerous place to exist. New York City turned me into an angelic mother. I declared there would be no more messing around. I had to become serious in the plight of motherhood.
Now, where are the angels I need for this last daughter? Send them, quickly!!!
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