At my house, “still in the wash” is usually the answer to whatever I or someone else desperately needs to wear that day. But it has come to mean something more to me, especially this week.
Saturday, we did my favorite thing at Edge. We sat “still, in the wash” of the Spirit, and the wash of our tears, and let God work in us. We let the waters overflow our spirits, spread out into our souls, and wash away despair, and doubt, and fear. We let them ferry hope and understanding and help.
It wasn’t a time about repentance or calling us to some standard, the kind of ministry that usually solicits tears from youth. We just get still; we just get quiet. We play something tender, usually Sperti, and sit and let the Spirit wash over us, show us holy things that we need to know. And most of us, kids and old people alike, just weep (we can’t seem to help it) and let God move and speak in us.
Why is Edge so the place…where this happens…most easily…for many of us, for me? Maybe because we let God work, we give Him space and time, and quiet. And we know that He will come and wash over and through. We respect God working in each other…We don’t crowd, we don’t rush to interrupt, to lay on hands and to pray. We do pray for one another aloud, if, when, God shows it clearly; but we do not presume that God is not moving, revealing, speaking, affirming…We don’t get in the way of God.
And I always cry. As a leader, I do my best to put the kids there first, to intercede for them, to let God show me things to clear a way for them…I am wiling to do such; I do my best….But always, I, too, am washed over and I cannot help but cease even my intercession. I am overwhelmed in His showing me things deep in me, things untouched, and by His answer to them … the wash of His presence. My tears always accompany, as if to incarnate that wash.
I am not generally a crier…I am not easily touched in my emotions (especially when people are around) …that’s why the Edge “still” time is so wondrous to me.
A friend and I talked about why that might be so…why we don’t even think to fight tears there (we do pretty much everywhere else) …why they just flow. I know it’s that respect – the fact that, in there, we somehow really grasp that God is at work in each of us – that each of us want Him to be so. And then there is that,”I want some space, but I want people, people who will/do stand guard for me, near.”
I feel so safe, so very secure in that place.
I really like to meet God alone…I like to meet Him with them, better.