Pulling the blinds from the window, I slid the glass over and popped out the bottom right and upper corner of the dirt-speckled plastic lining of the screen from its slot. Sticking my head through the window, I proceeded to squeeze through the small frame. “Headfirst, upper torso… don’t fall. Pleeeease don’t fall,” I muttered through the awkward gymnastic.

Lowering myself down ever so gently so as not to make a sound, I paused and stood against the pale wall siding of the house. The opaque darkness dissolved as starlight luminated the ghostly emerald blades of grass below. Above me, the imperial expanse of space cloaked itself in trillions of living lights. Stepping out onto cool earth, I surveyed the crystal-clear evening in the backyard and found a spot to wait near the looming apricot tree.

The evening was cool, and I knew there would be dew in the morning sunlight the next warm summer day. But for now, I would savor the peace of this serene night. I lay down and felt the grass prickle my neck. Crickets, the nocturnal romancers had crept out to play a tune for their sweethearts. Chirp! Chirp! The tiny black socialites had likely made their abode under one of the nearby aspen trees.

Stretched out beneath the midnight sky, I drank in the fresh country air, no longer confined to expectations or schedules which had seemed to press in all around me as the four walls of my bedroom had. Now, it would just be Him and me. I felt the blood pulsing in my head and took a few deep breaths. Listening. Listening for Him. Maybe just a word. Even one word would be enough. Even if He didn’t speak, it would be enough just to be with Him. To be still in His presence under the stars.

I tried to quiet my mind. Then the waves of regrets, to-do lists, and responsibilities began to swell. Immediately, I let the sounds of the leaves rustling wash them away. I could almost feel the sway of their branches reaching out, basking in the moonbeams. All the shallow thoughts blew away like pesky mosquitoes.

Every negative element of the day-- affliction, anxiety, and noise; even the best parts of the day-- every adulation, courtesy, and prayer-- had to be quieted.

Ssshhh…

"Be still, and know that I am God.” It is good to be still before the Lord.

Enchanted with this cosmic loveliness here, in the high skies of Colorado’s mountains, I sensed the fields of stars proclaiming their Maker’s imperishable glory and power. Gazing up at thousands of nebulas and constellations, I felt in awe of the wondrous magnitude and number of galaxies on display.

Closing my eyes, I whispered a simple request to Him, “Lord, let me sit here at your feet and learn.” With every glimmer shining down, I feel His presence radiating upon my face. Satellites blink across the inky sky. Comets disappear as suddenly as they come, glittering wisps, secrets caught in an instant and gone with the blink of an eye. He shows me strokes of grandeur in the most finite of details. The words of the prophet Isaiah come to mind; “Lift up your eyes on high and see: who created these? He calls them by name; by the greatness of his might and by His strong power He brought them out and hung them in their place.”- Isa 40:26

The night sky is a noble canvas gazed upon by all manner of people, inspiring legends in every tongue, upon every continent. The same constellations as were studied, interpreted and examined by past civilizations in distant lands and foreign cultures, I now beheld with my own eyes.

A cool breeze strode through, passing its fingers through my hair as the leaves clapped. Then, all fell silent for a moment. During that restful moment, I felt as though He had come and wrapped invisible arms around me. A faint smile curved my mouth. That familiar presence was what I had come for.

* * *

The vast brilliance and magnitude of this expanse is a cosmic scale, against which all of men's knowledge and wisdom cannot weigh more than one grain of sand on the shores of a celestial sea. In these moments of awe and reverence, I always feel so insignificant as His greatness resonates. Oh! What satisfaction comes with being so small in the face of such an immense and awesome God! I feel estranged in this world. The strain of society and cultural pretenses suffocates and gnaws. I am a wanderer. Only in this solitude, with You by my side, does my soul detect what lies behind this soiled curtain and catch a glimpse of the world I was made for. My spirit feels an inexpressible yearning. But under the stars with You, “my heart is at home.”

The majesty of the heavens has left its mark upon my soul. And though I have made an earnest endeavor to recount our rendezvous, I do believe that it falls short of His utmost grandeur.

Nothing seemed to change. The feeling in my chest was still there but, everything seemed normal for a worship time. The worship time ended and it was my turn to get on the platform. Then I knew something had, in fact, changed.

I felt like I had “sea legs.” It was like I had lost my fine motor skills. I was given the microphone and was unsure if I was even going to be able to speak. I think I did manage to say, “Hello NewLife family.” I made it to the podium and had to lean on it. Then, my legs went so relaxed I had to be on my knees. There I was, on my hands and knees praying in my prayer language. I was unable to greet the guests. I was unable to talk in English. I was unable to move. (This is an uncomfortable feeling when in front of a church full of people btw.) My Pastor helped me off the platform, and I entered the side room where we pray before service and fell to my face before the Lord.

Alone (aside from someone who made some coffee and then left lol) and face-down, I was fully surrendered to the Lord. Here I stayed, face-down crying and praying for a solid 20 minutes. During this time, I experienced waves of the Spirit of God. Each wave started at a normal conversational level, grew into a loud volume, and then quieted into a whisper. Then, the prayer language would change, and the cycle would continue. Over and over this happened. The prayers felt like repentance and were at times very intense. My head and neck were all I could move. My arms and legs were so relaxed and heavy that they might as well have been stuck to the floor.

After 20 minutes, the burden of prayer lifted, and I was able to get off the floor…slowly. I stayed in that room another 20 minutes praying and being just undone in the presence of the Lord. I had a strong feeling that what had just happened was the beginning of something greater that God was doing.

In honesty, I was angry that it was just the beginning. I wanted more and I wanted it right then. I did not like the feeling of loose ends or feeling like I was in the middle of something but had to stop. I wanted the full and fulfilled feeling when God completes a process or a work.

God sent me a friend at the end of service who prayed with me and God gave her the word “completion” and the verse, “And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished…”(Philippians 1:6, NLT). I was so comforted knowing God heard my prayer in that side room and gave me a promise of completion. This was exactly what my heart needed. The anger subsided, and hope came.

I was still shaky by the time I got home, and “I just knew” God would use the kids' rest time to speak to me more. He did not. But He has allowed me to see some fruit from our time together.

People have shared testimonies of feeling a shift in the atmosphere of the church, prayer meeting was different this week with an extra time to just listen to the Lord’s leading, someone dear to me said this caused them to want to know more about the Holy Spirit, and God created a path to heal a family relationship – and it is only Wednesday! I have a strong feeling that this is part of a “work-up” (to borrow a military term). I believe God is preparing something big and this prayer time was instrumental in the “big picture” of what is coming.

So, yes, I laughed and smiled at the thought of truly welcoming the Holy Spirit. He put me in an slightly uncomfortable state at church on Sunday (stuck on stage), but wowza, it was worth it. You see, as C.S. Lewis said of Aslan, he is “not like a tame lion.”

You cannot make God move, but you can be ready when He does.