Intensity

It's been a month. I can't help it though. My excuse [and it's a valid one] is that I've been covered up with helping my Cindy get ready for retreat stuff. It was this last weekend. I can't believe it's been a whole week since I was there!

It didn't start off easy. I was so excited for the retreat, but for a week or so leading up to it I was not in a good spot. The enemy was fighting me as hard as he possibly could to get me so distracted by life that I would miss what God had for me at the retreat. Thankfully I have a God momma that lovingly, but sternly, got in my face and told me to chill out. Even the day of the retreat I struggled. I was feeling guilty over selfish feelings I had. I listened to the first devotional Mrs. Judy did, and it hit home big time. However, the prayer time after was quick to overwhelm me, and I just sat watching everyone else. I knew if I stood at that moment I would try to leave. I was so frustrated with feelings. Then it's as if God said, "you did NOT come here to sit on the sidelines and watch!" So I got up and went to pray for someone. Before it was all said and done I ended up laying in the floor next to my Cindy while she prayed for me. I don't even know how that happens. I thought she wanted me to help her up and instead she pulled me up close to her like a mom and child. But it was a peaceful moment where I didn't feel like my mind was running. I know she must have seen the unease on my face in the midst of the crazy, loud prayer. It doesn't normally bother me, but I got so overwhelmed... and that's why I know that the enemy was doing everything he could to make me miss out on the weekend. He was trying to seclude me. We had a fun night, and Cindy ended up pulling me up in front of everyone after dinner and bragged on me [which I seriously was mortified... partly because of the selfish feelings I'd yet to apologize to her over, and partly because I really hate being center of attention].  Our room went to bed pretty early. We were back in the room at 8:30 and completely out by 10. We were worn out.
Friday was insane. It was just a fairly calm, easygoing morning and afternoon. I came back from a walk with Ash, and I went into mine and Cindy's room to take a shower before dinner. Cindy was studying, and asked if I'd finish putting together the rain sticks. Sure. No problem. Carrie and Judy came to help. Well at one point I'm in the floor on laid back in my bed [because I moved my mattress from on top of the bunkbed death trap], and we started discussing weird ways we've seen or had people want us to pray for them. Without going into detail with THAT awkward convo, Cindy decided to be funny and pounce on me from her bed where she was suppose to be studying. She bounces me off my bed, and then proceeds to tickle the MESS out of me. It was one of those mom/daughter torture sessions. I screamed for mercy like she was killing me. Ticklish spots. They aren't okay. Before it was all said and done we all ended up in a praying session. Cindy slathered anointing oil on my arms, legs, feet, hands, face, and THEN proceeded to pour it in my hair. Then... THEN that crazy woman tried to lift my shirt and pour oil on my stomach... I flipped at first, and then I'm not sure what came over me, but I raised my shirt just a little bit, and let her put oil on my stomach. We ended up in the floor praying for 2 hours. This whole time Cindy was suppose to be studying for her fast approaching sermon. So we finally get up and get ready [amongst several things going on that made it really hard to focus and get ready when we really just wanted to soak in His presence]. 
So we headed to service. Cindy... that woman does an incredible job at bringing the Word. It's not just that though... she has a way of taking a seemingly boring passage, and makes it relatable to whoever is in the audience. She's crazy anointed with the ability to speak. She spoke on Rizpah in 2nd Samuel 21. This woman's sons were taken from her and killed, and it was all because of someone else's mistake... she got caught up in someone else's whirlwind. The officials were suppose to come bury them after they'd been put to death, and they didn't. The left them. And Rizpah stayed. She put burlap on a rock and stayed there. For 6 months she beat off buzzards and wildlife that would come and try to harm what was left of her sons bodies. Her babies. Her dreams. No matter how decayed and smelly they got... she stayed. Because they were her dreams, and she loved them. Eventually the rains come, and King David sees her on the mountain, and realizes what's happened, and calls for a proper burial of Rizpah's sons. 
So often we get convinced by others to get off the rock. To stop fighting for what we've dreamed of... things that are ours. We HAVE to beat back the buzzards, dry our tears, and stay on the Rock!! 
Cindy finished her sermon. I think I always hold my breath the whole time. I was so enthralled by what she was saying. It would be nothing for me to sit at her feet for hours and hours and just listen to her knowledge. She's just incredibly wise, and doesn't even realize it. So we were praying for people... and I usually keep my eye on Cindy to make sure no one with less than Godly intentions comes up to pray behind her. It's just a thing. I can't exactly explain all that happened that night... I'm still processing what I can remember. I've figured out that when the Spirit is so heavy you don't remember what happened or what was done or said. I do know [because Cindy told me] that unbeknownst to me I prophesied all over that retreat. Me? Prophesy?? Surely not! I saw it happen though, and was reminded of things I'd said prior. One of the older women [whom we all adore] came and pour anointing oil over another lady and Cindy's head [this was after two women came and washed Cindy's feet], then the same woman turns to me and pours oil over my head! [Side note: this was the 2nd time that day that had occurred... which means I took THREE showers that day. 2 because of anointing oil. Crazy women...]. This is the biggest thing that happened that night... someone washed my feet. Because they had been angry and jealous of me. I don't know why. They didn't elaborate, and didn't need to. They apologized and washed my feet, and all I could do was weep. Who am I? That God would use me in someone else's healing. I didn't need to worry about why it was done, and what I had "done wrong". I just needed to realize it was for that woman's healing, not mine. That was such an intense moment for me. It was made all the more significant when Cindy told me that 6 years ago at a retreat, another woman had done the exact same thing for the same reason, and washed Cindy's feet. She got up and said something to the rest of the women while my feet were washed. The only thing I remember or heard was that the same was done to her, and I was following in her footsteps which was fitting since I called her "momma". 
I still think back on that night and just get a blank stare. I know this is all choppy, and may not make sense. I just know that God moved, and I was changed. Again. I'm so unworthy for Him to choose to use me. But so thankful He does choose to use me.
M