I was rifling through the CD rack when I happened on one from my old church. The one I still miss so much. We caught a golden wave during those years when we worshipped there. It has changed. We have gone back several times and always felt like we were rushed out. It felt like a drive through service. Oh, it was slick and it was smooth and perfect.

No room for the Holy Spirit.

Still, I wasn’t prepared for my own reaction when the first song came on.

One minute I was standing, and the next I was on my knees on the cold laminate floor, hands in the air. With tears streaming, I remembered.

I had forgotten how anointed music sounds, how it affects you. And once again, all those years were back. All those feelings washed over me and something broke apart in my heart. Something inside me broke and I don’t want to be cold and unbroken anymore. I had forgotten how it felt to lose track of time just praising God and it felt……..so……..good.

I remembered how it felt to want to run down in front of the church again, that feeling of surrender.

I remembered how we would lay hands on those around us if they had a need, and how the Spirit felt like waves across the church. Holy……Holy……Holy.

No one should ever leave the church still holding onto a burden, but so often we do just that because we aren’t given the option, or we don’t take it upon ourselves to seek it out.

Yesterday, I needed out of control praise in my own living room. We have had to be too much in control too long, and it was time to let go. I needed the kind of praise I imagine the woman gave Jesus, the one caught in adultery. I imagine how she felt as she waited for the first stone to strike. Wondering how long it would take to die that way.

I imagine her relief as she heard a thud in the dirt instead and then a gentle hand on her shoulder, and an even gentler voice.

I really don’t think as He helped her up she just shook His hand and said, thank you Sir. I think she fell back to the ground and worshipped at His feet. I imagine she slobbered and wiped her tears and clutched at His robe that was dragging in the dust. I have a feeling she cried and prayed loud sobbing wet tears and wiped her nose on the hem of His garment.

And then maybe He helped her up again and smiled and gave her a rag to wipe her nose. And then I think she might have done a crazy dance like King David did all the way home, waving her hands in the air as her heart tasted forgiveness for the very first time.

I did both of those things in my living room yesterday morning, and it felt good. I want this rock inside me to break apart and stay apart. I want to throw the fish in the pan and let it cook itself and stay here forever like Mary, choosing the better part.

I realize we can’t always walk around a broken up mess, but I wonder why I don’t much more often.

Thank you, Lord. Your timing is perfect as usual.