Friday, 2 May 2014

Commissioned Moments

Today I'm joining up with a community at #SheReadsTruth. We've been challenged to write from the following reflection: 

Why do we live in the tension of worship and doubt that disables us to share the truth of God’s love? 
You and I are commissioned – authorized by God – to “therefore go and make disciples” who will know Him and live for Him. This is a commandment from Jesus.

Lots of other people have also written, have a look at their thoughts here. Here are mine:

Growing up, I learned to worship God in dance. I learned all the theory; what different parts of the body symbolised and how we could move prophetically. I grew up expressing my praise with my whole being.

I grew a bit older and discovered some people found that a bit weird. I learned that my friends and I had been labelled 'the flag girls' and watched more than one less-than-complementary impression of our 'actions'.

Now I'm older still. I've learned that I can praise and worship my God without having to move at all. I can reflect, I can be so full of awe that even to put on that worshipping face is distracting from what is happening on the inside. But sometimes, I just want to dance. I want to use all my limbs, my body, my balance to express my heart. Then I remember about the flag girls and wonder what that person sitting at the back might think.

Last Friday I encountered Jesus in a way I haven't done since I was a child. On Sunday, I burned on the inside with a conviction that I had a God-given dance. Movements rose inside of me that I knew would inspire and lead others. 'Flag girls' shouted from the back of my mind, urging me to cling to dignity. The song rolled on. How could I ask Jesus for a commission if I wouldn't follow such a simple command? How could I take a step of faith at work if I couldn't take a step in front of my family?

Every step to the front felt like lead. Every movement felt shaky. The chorus rose and fell. The verses came around, and that chorus again. My whole life was laid out in that moment, surrendered. All my pride, every promise, everything I knew and didn't know. That was my commissioning moment, a tiny obedience that broke through the lies of the past and fears of the future.

Since then? Life is busy, and normal. There was no bolt from the sky, but a foundation in my heart that I can follow my commission, one step at a time.