Sunday morning was... interesting. We’ve been experiencing a fresh release of the Holy Spirit’s presence recently. People have been much more conscious of Him – there’s been some crying and laughing in our worship times as people open up to Him. Much less “going through the motions”. Some have fallen to the ground, or shaken and trembled when others have prayed for them.
This Sunday, as soon as the band struck up the first worship song, I was weeping. Don’t know why. Something to do with loving God. It was freeing and – cleansing. I began to shake a little. God was there.
The sister next to me, a close friend from my community house asked me to pray with her, so I wept over her for a bit. She started to cry as well and then to sigh and to rock and then to shout out. God was there.
Other people were also being prayed for around the hall, and the worship was continuing.
Meanwhile, some kind of fracas was kicking off at the back of the room. Two brothers were fighting. Then the brother leading the meeting shouted very sternly at a load of people who were hanging around in the foyer, “Come in here, in the name of Jesus!” (He’d already asked them to come in a coupe of times.) This was uncharacteristic of this much-loved brother – and very necessary in the circumstances. Some people were being distracted from what God was doing – as another brother pointed out, addressing the whole congregation as we shared the bread and the cup afterwards.
All heaven was let loose – well, some of heaven. And a little bit of hell. God was on the move, and one or two less wholesome spirits were shaken out of hiding. It’s real. This is not religious routine. This is a revival of sorts, and we need it.
But – we’re British! (Actually, thankfully, this is not true of all of us.) We’re not given to public displays of emotion; much less to falling and shaking and other such exhibitions of insobriety.
God is loosening us up. Shaking us out. Reminding Him that He is the “God of the living and not the dead”.