Yesterday I preached about the Constitution. It was titled "We the People." I gave words to "standing by someone else." It's a great gift to have a pulpit.
But today, I have the haunting feeling again. I wish for the freedom from the ties of the word preached. It draws me in, even holds me within its grasp - in knots.
It's not my word though, right? If it be prophecy, it belongs to the spirit of God. It has its own life and responsibilities. I speak it, let it go, from my belly to the ears of others. I become empty and the Spirit must continue to work on the ears of others. The Spirit must cultivate hearing from heads to hearts to hands. My job was to yield to that word and be a conduit for the Spirit to speak.
And so on Monday, I feel empty. And I feel loss... as if I held that word, that opportunity to speak, that calling, and I let go.
The word is out there, out of my head, my heart, and my hands. It is out of my grasp but it keeps me in its grasp in that I feel cavernous, I feel its absence. The absence haunts me the morning after.
