One recent Sunday I so badly wanted someone to know the hardness of what I was talking to God about; the topic will remain unnamed, but I just wanted people to know.
I’m sitting there. I’m struggling in conversation with the Lord … even just exploring this thing with Him and having this conversation with Him was hard. {I was showing much resistance!} I wanted someone to just know and to just come and put their arm around me and pray for me and have a word for me from the Lord. I wanted God to speak to me.
I just sat there.
I listened to the church – His church – My body sing for the Lord and welcome the Holy Spirit, inviting Him to come and flood and be and overwhelm. I felt, as tangible as I could have ever felt anything, without another human being ever touch me, I felt hands of love and comfort all along the shoulderline of my back. There were multiple hands of love and comfort.
It was Him.
The Father.
He comforted me.
All by Himself.
Apparently, in that moment, He didn’t want another person of the body to do it. He wanted to do it.
3 “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
ginicraven
Holly Dennis