There are those experiences that are hard to put into words. Many of the writers in the Bible struggled in the same way – Ezekiel’s wheel within a wheel, Daniel’s beasts, Isaiah’s thrown room, and John’s many revelations. Given all the languages at our disposal, none contain the words to adequately describe what we sometimes may see or feel. The revelation is simply too lofty. This is a story of such a revelation.
I attended Carson-Newman University in Jefferson City, TN for my undergraduate school. And, due to my physical gifting in sound engineering, I was invited to join the Fellowship of Christian Athletes worship band – Rev7 – as the sound technician. It was an incredible opportunity to serve next to some amazing guys and gals – both, in the band and on the leadership team – that I still see as spiritual giants in my life. It humbles me (I tear up writing this) to remember my time with them. It was alongside them that I learned to serve, I learned to give of myself; it was next to them every Wednesday night in Swann Hall that I learned how to truly pray. The blessing still overwhelms me.
Every week of showing up early for setup and staying late for tear down was all for a brief hour or two of worship. The microphone and speaker placements, the levels, the EQ, the effects – everything was done to make a beautiful sound for our God. The closure of every Tuesday night found me exhausted; but, every Tuesday night my strength was renewed. FCA was one of the many tools God used to carry me through my ministry to the athletes.
And, then, one night it happened.
The night seemed to be like every other. The band was leading worship in the front of the gym; I was in the back running the mixer. We were separated by an expanse of a few hundred classmates pouring their hearts out in worship – kneeling or laying prostrate on the floor praying; or, standing with their hands raised to the ceiling as they sang to the Father.
I still remember it vividly.
My head was buried in the mixer, listening through the headphones and tweaking the levels. Then, above all the noise, I heard a voice asking, “Do you want to see what I see?”
I answered, “Yes.”
“Then look up.”
I raised my head to see something I had never seen before nor have I seen since. Not only could I see the physical bodies of my friends, but God allowed me to see through them. God allowed me to see their souls. This moment was surreal. It was like seeing ghosts of light encased by a merely transparent type of skin.
For a brief moment, I was given the power to see the souls of my classmates worshiping the Father and it was beautiful. I was overcome with emotion.
The Father spoke once more. “If it’s that beautiful to you to see them worship me, how beautiful do you think it is to me?”
But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship him. – John 4:23
