It's about twenty minutes till Saturday, but I'm joining in last-minute for Five Minute Friday. The rules are to write for just five minutes on one topic without editing. The topic this week is "visit."
We walked in, with our footie-pajama-wearing boys, to the place where we used to go each Sunday. It was a worship night, and when I found out about it, I knew I needed to go, even if it was awkward.
But it wasn't awkward. The place was spiffed up over recent months, but it was also the same place. There were drums and low-lights and folding chairs and prayer. The music was loud, and I think my four year old only knew one song.
At one point, there was a call to be prayed for, if you wanted a miracle - not in a showy-TBN way, but an invitation to step out and be prayed for. Should I go up? This isn't my home any more. I'm just a visiting tonight. But deep within I knew it was why I needed to be there with my youngest, who was now fast asleep on my shoulder.
There is nothing like prayer among charismatics. Say what you will, but there is power in such a faith community. Words were spoken over my three year old with the still-crazy-hair, and now I somehow really know the meaning of the verse, "Mary treasured these things in her heart" because the miracle isn't so much in what will or will not happen in the days head. The miracle is that my son is loved and the confirmation that God has great things in store for him.
Driving home from the visit tonight, I thought to myself, "I've missed the Holy Spirit." But He replied, "I never left you."