Monday, February 13, 2012


He began shouting as we sang. Chills ran from the top of my scalp to the bottom of my toes. The Lord was filling this man up and as our pastor often puts it...He was just spewing all over the congregation. I tasted salt as tears poured from eyes at such a Blessing. Grown men watched intently and shook their heads deliberately in agreement as His words reached them. The man's voice was felt as it was carried through the floor he stood upon and it reached up into each pew and captured those carefully placed on each cushioned slab of wood, by Him.

Daddies Testified about their daughters, one after the other. One child was eventually led to the altar when she collapsed on her knees in prayer. Loving family and friends quickly surrounded the child and when they stood, her Daddy wrapped his arms around her. They stood there embracing for awhile. It was beautiful. I knew that whatever she needed, He had for her. Her Daddy can hug her, love her, and wrap his arms around her but what she truly needed, she could only get from The Lord, her Father, and she'd found it at The Altar.

Her Daddy sat back down in front of us. His boots wiped clean for service, the flesh on his arms was scratched up and his hands looked worn from hard work. He sang loudly the words to every song after that. He apparently received a Blessing also. His proud voice never even needed a hymn book, he just knew. The songs grew with each strong voice....and we never even went to Sunday School.

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