So…I worship about once a month in the Taizé tradition at a local Episcopal church. (If you have no idea what that means, check out this link http://www.taize.fr/en_rubrique8.html) (Side note: Nathan, if it wasn’t for you I’d plan on living as a sister in this monastic ecumenical community in France.) Anyway…I was asked to play flute for the service once, and I’ve been going pretty regularly for the last year or so as a result. The general idea is to let a few lines of music play continuously for enough time that it becomes a bit like breathing, something to carry with you throughout your day (pray without ceasing, get it?). Silence is also a large component of the worship service time. My mom thinks it’s a cult. I promise it’s not 🙂

Most nights Taizé gives me some peace and stillness, often much needed, but tonight it was more than that. I left the service tonight feeling like I’d just been hit by a truck. Maybe that was the Spirit of God…but it certainly didn’t come like a gentle whisper! I can’t describe any sort of message I was being told or any action I must go carry out. I just felt hit—struck—put in awe by who God is and where I fit into his picture. I felt so very important to His Kingdom and yet so low that I was not worthy to lift my eyes to Him, not worthy to touch His feet. He was that awe-inspiring. The word formidable comes to mind.

It certainly puts things in perspective when I then turn around and fill out another teacher job application, prepare to teach about the moon to 2nd graders tomorrow, and try to work ahead on my work as a student teacher being assessed on my performance.

God is so much bigger than it all, and yet cares so much about it all. Wow. Am I lucky to be a daughter to this King and a member of this community or what?

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