Around 7:30 each morning we’d leave the house in Antigua, Guatemala. We’d meet and pray with new people in new places over new situations all day. Laugh, cry, ponder.
Around 5:30 we’d return for dinner at Luis’s house. His wife Mirella would feed our bodies with authentic and incredible Guatemalan food.
And then, sweet bliss, Jesus would feed our souls.
Thank God. Because by nightfall, if I had had a magic eject button to pop home, I might have hit it. My body was tired, my soul was drained.
But in his wisdom, God didn’t leave me that opening.
He let me get in over my head; I had to depend on no one but him.
That is grace.
In that nightly worship, the Lord’s refilling came strong and undeniable. Through songs sung, scriptures discussed, prayers uttered—he wrapped his arms around us and poured in more Spirit than we had poured out.
And we drank. And drank. His presence was thick.
Until both body and soul were satiated for another night’s rest.
It is a holy rhythm, this filling up and pouring out and refilling once again. The rhythm is different for each of us. Different in time, in place, in style.
I loved the rhythm of God in Guatemala. It was simple, predictable.
But the rhythm of God here is just as sacred. His pulse, his movement, his Spirit breathes in and out. Whether there. Whether here. In fullness, with intentionality, by design.
Stay in the flow.
Therein lies grace.
During the day Jesus would teach in the temple courtyard. But at night he would go to the Mount of Olives (as it was called) and spend the night there.
Luke 21:37 (GW)
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What does your flow look like? Is it different in different places, different seasons? Please share.
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