Two Minutes

So this morning, I'm panicking, figuratively speaking. I'm enrolled in university, three classes this trimester - and the workload is freaking me out. This week alone, I have five lectures. The amount and (difficulty) of reading I have to do boggles the mind. My domestic workload is, as ever, as challenging as one might expect given the size of my family. Trying to remain committed to health and wellbeing, and see to my mental health, my spiritual health - it's daunting.

So I was feeling frazzled when I rocked up to church (ON TIME!) this morning. Feeling overwhelmed, uncertain, and definitely not thinking about worship.

The message today was about Elijah, and the part about him journeying into the wilderness and parking his backside under a broom tree - it spoke to me. We had our own Elijah kind of morning last week. I dropped all the kids off and I just sat in my car in the driveway. I couldn't face the overwhelming nature of the mess awaiting my return. So I sat there, about 45 minutes, and just cried, talked things out, and eventually started falling asleep. At which point I thought, "This is dumb. I should just go and lay down" and I did.

Back to this morning. Just before communion, we had two minutes of silence, and I just mentally started dumping all this stuff onto the floor in front of God, and confessing my fear of not knowing how all this would happen. And then a very strange thing happened.

My eyes still closed, I saw/felt bright light shining on me from somewhere above me. As soon as I saw/felt the light, my fear dissolved, and in its place grew a sense of peace, and overwhelming joy. When the two minutes was over, I opened my eyes and the light in the room had not changed. But I had changed.

We had communion, and for perhaps the first time ever, I felt communion with God. I felt more of Him, and so much less of me. I felt the actual 'dying of self' that people talk about.

I can't explain what happened today. I am simply thankful that it did.

Love,

Sarah