Lights and prophetic smoke

 Pre-pandemic, I went to the Women of God conference, Yeovil and wrote a little blog called "smoke and mirrors" about the experience. I found it difficult.  Said I wouldn't go back.  So this year I went back.  I'm not entirely sure how/why- I like going because my friend Sandy goes.  But this year I didn't buy a ticket, but one of her friends dropped out - so I went along with Sandy's friend Jen as my chaffeur/taxi.

I really don't find large gatherings easy, so this blog is a small exploration of the day, the why and wherefore of how an introvert copes in such an atmosphere.  I always get excited/nervous beforehand, but what I really enjoy is the lights.  I'm not a band going person, but coloured lights, beamed onto the ceiling in swirling spirograph colours of blue, pink and orange, chrysthamums of white and spring green stage lights make me feel happy! Not so happy with stage smoke - how does that help anyone worship?  It just makes me dry throated, dry eyed and hoarse. My friend Sandy said "what lights" - she sings with her eyes closed.  I have given up trying to sense God's presence and closeness through singing worship songs - when I can feel the band through the soles of my feet, and into the pit of my stomach, then I know it is even less likely.  I am not good at visualising things or imaging scenes but I took my imagination on a little trip to the beach at Lee Abbey during the worship and watched the sea, creaming and foaming.  As the lights went to circles of orange I imagined the sunrise there.  I sat on a bench and looked at the rocks from my favourite viewpoint and glanced across to where the light hits the trees' varigated colours in Autumn.  I am even less competent at imagining bible scenes, but I went to the last supper with Jesus, and looked at him washing feet and serving his disciples with bread and wine.  Then I just got bored, overwhelmed and noised out!

The speakers were equally loud and passionate - I know my friend loved them! It seems to me that extraverts like Jesus to be the King, the sovereign risen Lord, which he is, but people like me find they want to go meet him on the beach and have breakfast, or ask him loads of questions and are baffled by his answers.  I literally cannot follow someone who shouts at me.  I hear the tone, not the words.  And it makes me shut down.  If I could have heard from God I would happily have done so - as it was, I did retail therapy and bought my manager a journal with a beautiful tree and leaves and a prayer from Ephesians on its pages.

I am wired differently.  And that is ok.  God, who I love, through photographs, blogs, books and his outstanding creation artistry probably just shakes his head and smiles because he knows that Love prompted me to take a ticket to an event that doesn't fit the shape God made me.