I think the room was a sanctuary for so many. A safe place. I mean, you could feel it, it was chilled and peaceful and calming and such an easy place to be. But it was more than that. People came for rest and for stillness and feeling a bit broken or empty or blind, people came with willing hearts and were unafraid to bring their wounds and weakness too.
And yet what made it a sanctuary was the fact that while we might have come with willing hearts but eyes set on our own situations, once you were there, you could not help but look at Jesus. The floors and the walls spoke of many things, and so much was just outpouring, outflowing of love, of glorification, of magnification, of awe of joy. People glimpsed beauty, majesty, love. There were themes of freedom and release scrawled over the walls and I think that's what many people encountered. I know I did.
There was also a theme of feet. Feet everywhere. I think this is a brilliant thing- now you know you are free, stand up. Step out. Don't just step- walk, run, skip, hop, dance, MOVE. Beautiful feet that move.
Cos that's the danger, for me at least. Sanctuaries are safe and comforting and so powerful and it's easy to be sad when they're over, when you have to step out again and live like you did there in you're everyday life away from the "safe" place, the place where you experienced that freedom and wonder and worship so fully. But He's still with you, you are still free. That hasn't changed.
So here's the challenge- He's given me my freedom, what am I going to do with it?