bekah Faith Leave a Comment

I’ve spoken at a couple of churches recently, specifically to women, and have felt the innate need to begin with confession. Whether it’s a lame struggle, or the fact that my hubby and I just got in an argument, or that my son scolded me for being a “bad mommy” I want to convey that I am just.like.you. And I don’t know about you, but sometimes when I hear speakers, I assume their life is rosy and champagney and that their children are perfect, and they never get adult acne. So I pretty much level the playing field by letting fellow ladies know that yes, indeed, I am real. A real mess.

So I may as well confess to you that I didn’t want to go to church the other night. Lame excuses, but they are as follows:

It was raining, and dressing kids in rain boots is super hard. Okay, that one is lame.

I had cramps, and wanted to nurse ice cream all night in fat pants, and avoid putting on “real” clothes, you know, other than workout attire.

The real reason is that I’d been single momming it while Bryan was leading a youth weekend event and I was plain beat.

And I knew deep down I was supposed to go, which meant, I was shying away from a potential spiritual booty-kick.

Oh, are you nodding? Good, I’m not the only one that makes excuses for going to church. {Ear whisper: I’ll save you an extra scoop of ice cream}

So I went. There, you happy?

I went knowing I would sit alone, and that I would bawl during worship. Standard. I went feeling lonely and aching for my dad, and depleted. But I also went expectant.

And let me tell you, something beautiful happened.

The message was on the Woman at the Well from John 4. Josh nailed it with the focus being on the question, Who are we worshiping? We are worshiping I Am.

The main takeaway was that we are to worship Him in Spirit and Truth.

As the speaker closed, the lights dimmed and worship began, and the tears came. And they would.not.stop. Now, I’ve grown accustomed to tears accompanying worship, but this was different. As a congregation we were offered time to hear from our Heavenly Father, to let Him speak to us.

Another confession. This is often the time I make weekly to-do lists or pray for other people, or daydream about Kauai. Not tonight.

With my head in my lap, tears pooling in my glasses {who wants to see the crazy, crying lady in the back?} this image comes to life:

I am a young- maybe eight or nine, wearing a white sundress with my hair down to my waist. Perched, I sit on a makeshift board-and-rope swing suspended high off the ground. A giant oak tree’s sturdy branch juts into the air, offering it’s arm with ample space to swing underneath. Below are buttery wheat fields, and above, the sky is pale sapphire.

I watch the scene as if watching a movie, my hair trailing behind, then in my face as I pump back and forth, a white blur flying across the screen. And then I see it. His breath, the wind on my back. My heavenly Father’s exhale so close it propels me into the air. I swing with pleasure and utter joy. But as I swing away from His breath, my heart sinks realizing I am moving away from Him. But wait- I see His hands near the base of the tree trunk, waiting to push my knees, the same way I push Ty’s. His gentle touch sends me backwards into the air, hair whipping my face as I laugh and shout, Higher. Sadness again as I realize I am swinging farther from His hands. But no, He is there. I lift my head back, eating up the sky and breathing in true play, and spy His face smiling down at mine, eyes twinkling as His child soaks up the moment.

Spell-bound, I watch the younger “me” swing with my Savior. Back and forth. Breath propelling me forward, hands pushing my knees, His face smiling down. He is all-around, omnipotent and safe. I could watch forever. I could swing for eternity. When I slow, He is there, catching me as I jump from the swing, securing my footing in the fields, guiding my steps. I Am is omni-present, everywhere. We walk together toward the horizon, the hills slowly pulling the glowing orb behind them.

It is a holy image. One I’ll never forget. On a swing with my Father. Such peace and beauty and love.

Not sure where today lands you, but if you’d like, I’ll share my swing with you. Could you use His breath on your back, and His hands pushing you high? No doubt He’d love to gaze into your face and laugh with you. Would you care to swing with Him?

Hop on, grab the ropes. Let I Am take the lead. Lean back, hold tight and trust.

Now, swing.


Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.” John 4: 23,24

{photo credit: Pinterest}

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *