Touched by an angel

Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting is the mid-week topic for Jackson’s Journal, a memoir-in-progress of my life’s spiritual journey.

I was once touched by an angel. It was June 11, 2004.

Did I lose you there? Let me back up a bit.

Some might say that I take the biggest risk of the week on Wednesday with Jackson’s Journal. I’m aware that Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting doesn’t appeal to everyone, although I usually do keep it “safe” with mostly nostalgic reminisces of my youth. Today will be different — much “heavier,” spiritually speaking. No tongue-in-cheek, eye-rolling descriptions of the parts of my faith journey that I now cling to.

Last Wednesday’s post, “Mountain-top moments,” was written with today’s post in mind. I’ve had mountain-top spiritual moments. And whatever the opposite of that is … I’ve been there, too. Back in March 2004 as I battled a period of extreme spiritual darkness, a friend suggested a very odd thing: Write myself a letter from God.

And so I sat on a chilly, wind-blown hill in the middle of nowhere, just minutes before sunset, with pen and paper in hand. What would God say to me?

“I love you.

You are My child.

Just let Me love you.

Nothing is too big for Me.

Just let Me love you.

You are My child.

I love you.”

I wrote those words as effortlessly as anything I’d ever written, as if moved by a force ‑ a presence ‑ much greater than myself. I shared that letter with no one.

Three months later, June 11, 2004, I was at the Crossover Christian Musical Festival at StoneRidge Amphitheater in Camdenton. With Sonic Flood singing “Here I Am to Worship,” scores of people transformed the front of the stage into an altar. The music continued, prayers were uttered, tears fell. But I felt like the only one hearing the song, with a silent, slow-motion sea of people around me.

And then someone touched my left shoulder.

I glanced behind me to see a young, short but stocky, 20-something man. His hand squeezed my shoulder. My ears were just inches from a booming speaker, yet the man’s soft, gentle voice was clear.

“I have a word from the Lord,” he said.

He spoke:

“I love you.

You are My child.

Just let Me love you.

Nothing is too big for Me.

Just let Me love you.

You are My child.

I love you.”

His hand slipped off my shoulder and I immediately turned around.

He was gone.

Take my hand now as we form a circle of grace. We’ll linger here a bit, overwhelmed by grace, as we listen to Here I Am to Worship. With apologies to Sonic Flood, this is Hillsong and Darlene Zschech performing.

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Filed under Inspiration, MIP: Memoir-in-progress

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