I couldn’t stand there any longer. Not one second more. My body slid down the door frame to my knees. Hearing the hearts singing out in worship to their Bridegroom, their Lover, their Jesus, forced me to my knees.
I soaked it in. It was beautiful to me.
It had to be glorious to Him.
For months I had prayed that He would meet with us there. There on that mountain. My prayer was that He would show us Himself so mighty that we couldn’t credit any one else.
I pictured Him getting to the cabin before us, walking through to make sure everything was ready.
We had some things to give Him. Some names that didn’t belong to us but we carried because we believed the deceiver. We gave Him Unworthy. We gave Him Immoral and Unforgiven. We gave Him Forsaken and Unclean.
Then He gave us something in return. He called us Worthy. He called us Forgiven and, I love this, My Delight Is In Her. He called us Daughter. And, hold on . . . He called us Bride.
That is why we could sing. These girls who wore black and red and who could have possibly thrown a tortilla or two in their college lives.
We sang because we believed Him. Oh, we already believed in Him, but now we believed Him.
Our voices singing out Jesus Loves Me. Our hearts crying out Lord I’m Amazed By You.
We took it in. We took Him in.
There in the back of the room on my knees I listened to hearts. Hearts singing out strong because an exchange had been made.
An exchange that made us free to sing.