journal entry July 10/10

So Jesus I am here before worship practice and although I wanted to come earlier I didn't. I have so much I want to do with You but first I want to stop and let You choose. Where do You want to meet? What do You want to do? I close my eyes willing myself to put aside my own things, my own desires...

We are sitting on a big rock in the village just outside the city. I haven't been here in so long. My eyes eagerly seek out what I remember... the hut transformed, the walkway, the man; but this isn't what I am here for is it. So I close my eyes again and wait... when I open them up again I sence several things. First, in a beam of sunlight that falls across one of the many branches, I see a very small songbird. It is facing the sun. Second, it is very quiet and empty here, in a way that makes it feel like a hush has literally fallen upon this place... tangible and thick. Is it in fear, pain or is it the opposite.... a Holy hush? Who is here Jesus?
In one of the huts the door sits slightly ajar... just enough to catch a ray of light. Inside the hut just beyond the light's reach sits a little girl. She is dirty and ragged from her sleep that has lasted so long amidst the dirt and leaves. Although she yearns for the light to touch her skin, she stays just out of arms length of it, yet she rebels against her self-imposed rules by facing the direction of the light and watching the little bird on the branch. Barely breathing, she sits completely taken with the bird and it's every move. It flits about in the ways of wee little birds, movements so slight you wonder if you even saw it. Then the little bird seems to pause and for a moment drinks in the light; then it bursts out into a song that snatches away the little girl's breath. She is shocked at the break in the stillness, the silence and is grateful that she is still hidden so that no one can accuse her of not being worthy to watch and listen. She closes her eyes tightly but soaks up something else... a desire for more.
We sit on the boulder till that last light fades away then I watch You get up and walk towards the hut. While walking around the hut You take away and move certain branches. I see the little girl, not asleep, but curled up waiting. Waiting for what more is. That is when I see why You have moved the branches. A beam of moonlight, as bright as I can ever remember, streams into the hut from a hole near the top and it's fingers reach and rest right on her arm and shoulder. The light holds deep significance; so deep that it almost has a touch.... she slowly raises her other hand to touch it's presence on her arm... as if to hold it captive as her own. I do not know what Jesus is saying as He walks around her hut but I wonder about His protective presence... His heart and His love coming out with each breath and in each step.