Majesty
I have always known the presence of the Lord. I used to play with it at the church. I loved to stand in the dark foyer and push open the wooden double doors to the worship service inside the sanctuary. Sometimes, at night meetings, the only light would be the warm glow of the overhead projector, a whole wall filled with light and writing, and huge fingers adjusting the tilt of the words, or pointing out the place everyone should be looking. I always imagined that those hands on the wall could be God’s hands, reaching right into the world… If I let the doors close, everything would be dark, if I pushed on the doors, glory would seep out to meet me, all the brighter for the contrast with the dark. If I pushed my face right up close to the crack between the doors, I could see the glory inside, but that wasn’t the same as actually leaning against those doors until they opened enough for the light to stream into the darkness and ignite whatever it touched. I remember wedging the door open, ...