Absence.

I attended the Kingdom Prayer Conference the other weekend.

Wow.

I have so much to write about it that it'll probably be coming up in many posts... But I'm going to share one story for now.

The pastor was talking about unhealed people, saying that they experience Glory just as much as those who are healed.

Agreed.

He went on the talk about those who felt God's presence. And those who felt absence. And continued with the fact that Jesus can be glorified even in the absence of God.

Which I didn't really understand at first, but I think I get it. Like the sermon Pastor Brad shared in church this morning, the response is what either glorifies or doesn't glorify God.

He asked those who had felt God's absence lately to stand up and for everyone else to pray for them.

I got a little bit cocky, maybe. "I've got this. Me and the Holy Spirit are close, we talk all the time. What even is absence?"

Okay, maybe I didn't think all that. But something along those lines.

But as I stood and prayed for another girl, something shifted... And I slowly lost the words I was praying and I went and sat down.

At first, I wanted to run home. "That's enough Tehillah for tonight!" But that wouldn't have been right.

The band started playing Oceans and maybe I've written this before, or maybe I haven't, but that song is hard to sing.
I don't mean musically, I mean spiritually.

"Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders... Let me walk upon the waters wherever You would call me... Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander, and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior."

See? Difficult.

But I can do it.
Sometimes it takes me till the second time 'round, but I can do it.

Not this time.

I didn't/couldn't open my mouth to sing one word of that song.

And it scared me - it was the farthest and untrusting I had felt in a long time.

The song ended, and the worship leaders exchanged looks of "Are we done yet?"

I felt so unsettled. That wasn't it, was it? It couldn't be.

One of them said, "I don't know, are we done? You tell me!" and the other said, "Okay, I've got one more."

Amanda Cook started playing Closer.

This song I *could* sing.

And the coldness melted away.
And He was there - or at least, I could feel Him there - again.

It felt like a little lesson.

To let me feel what absence felt like.
To show me that I could try but still lose it.
To show me that, no, I don't control Him.
To teach me how valuable His presence was and not to take it for granted.