wind breath power life presence

All of a sudden the wind rattled the window next to where I was sitting, just the once, and quite markedly. It surprised me, and it startled me within, in a manner. I knew it was windy and I felt rather comfortable inside, but this was different. It alarmed me. It spoke to me.

I had been working on an historical research project into the early evening, having done so for most of the day. It was a choice thing, I didn’t have to do it, there was no assessment, nor compulsion, other than that from within. Thankfully I realised I was trying to do too much too quickly (story of my life) and I was not leaving room for other things, other people, including God. From inside I knew I had neglected my relationship with the Lord that day and I needed to sit with him and talk and listen. I needed to be in his presence. I needed to know his presence, I needed to know him.

So I stopped the research, switched off my PC, and went and sat down for a moment’s interlude before I went elsewhere and took the time to meditate and pray. The moment stretched, and I watched some telly. And then the wind hit. Immediately I thought the Lord was tapping on the window reminding me he was still interested if I was.

Nah, I thought, God doesn’t do that, my background of conservative evangelicalism doesn’t really allow for such non-textual things. That background, a large portion of which I am thankfully shedding as a no-fit skin, is rigid and dry, and almost lifeless with its ultra-critical, Bibliolatrous and eccentricly 'orthodox' view of how God makes himself known in the world. This is coupled with an equally rigid and dry hermeneutic that is less than embracing of Spirit-life. It prefers a controlled and patterned legalistic form of self-be-in-control spiritually. Therein is an overwhelming organisational structure and demand for an unquestioning submission to (alleged) authority/ies; conforming to those things demonstrate one’s worthiness and value as a pew-bound, saluting believer. So I sat, and sat, and my mind simply couldn’t rest. Then I wondered again, who else would be rattling the window?

Perhaps it was my troubled conscience making something of just the wind hitting the window, as I am sure it has done thousands of times before. But, just perhaps it really was Him moving within his created realm doing as he pleases. After all, He has before acted through the wind and he is the same One. Why ever do 'we' still insist on saying that people are allowed to knock on doors and windows, but God would never do such a thing? Is he powerless to do so? Maybe he is just too proud and haughty to do such a thing? Or, and I think, are we just too stupid and so damagingly formal to believe he could, or would? Could such God-limiting thoughts have their roots in an innappropriate and eccentric elevation of the Bible where God is portrayed as one who has abrogated his right and his will to reveal himself to humanity in manners consistent with how he has done so in the past. Oh, you would never read that anywhere, I am sure, but there is no space for it, for God communicates ONLY and ALWAYS through his written Word according to that line of textually-dependant thinking which is largely based on Spiritless tradition and not on the person of the Almighty?. Bah-humbug, for doesn't even the Bible say somewhere, you search the scriptures but you do not find me?

I have been thoughtful for many years about the Lord when strong winds come and have an influence upon my immediate surroundings and me personally. I am mindful of how he visited the mountain, and the temple. How Spirit is God-breath. How Spirit is in the wind. How Spirit is breathed. How Breath is wind. Is it not the case that we cannot speak unless we breathe? (Some my say, well, you can speak through your fingers and through words. Yes, I agree, for even God has written on tablets and walls and the hearts of mankind with his finger!).

I simply love powerful winds and they always bring me to think of the Lord in an adoring and worshipful way, even if my life feels threatened by such exuberant power. I was certainly sure the wind on the windows wasn't the enemy. After all, why would that deceiver want me to get to and talk with my God in quiet solitude and grow close to him?

So, having wised-up to the moment (eventually; I am so slow, and way too often) I arose and wrapped myself in two blankets and went and sat out on the balcony and we talked. He talked I listened. I talked he listened. We communed; we were in presence, together. This is so new to me, it is so powerful, so liberating, so rich and peaceful, altogether beautiful. And I knew the contentment that only he brings as I climbed into bed and we talked: he talked and I listened, I talked and he listened ... I... he... we... US.