I walked along the rugged shoreline of Shell Beach today, remembering a time long ago when I was young and often came to these cliffs to play my flute. I recorded one such memory in my book, Intercessors, God’s End-time Vanguard. I reprint it here as a reminder that finding the Holy in the daily often comes when we least expect it.
“Years ago, when I was in college, my roommate, Pam, and I went to the beach for some quiet time. It was late at night and Pam decided to go for a walk. I sat down by the cliff and listened to the waves breaking over the rocks below. Pulling out my flute, I began to play songs of worship and songs from my spirit. This had become a way of expressing my heart in prayer to the Lord and I often felt His presence closest during these times of musical intercession. Suddenly there appeared a woman in front of me walking out of the fog by the edge of the cliff. I probably jumped three feet but calmed down when I realized she was crying.
Sobbing she explained that her life had no meaning and no hope. She had come to the edge of the cliff intending to jump onto the rocks below. As she contemplated her final decision she heard music floating up through the fog. Feeling compelled to follow the sound she ended up weeping in front of me. Not knowing what else to do, I led her to the Lord! Pam arrived in time to answer more of her questions about Jesus and together we took her home.”
Most of my encounters with the Lord are not so dramatic, but an occasional in-you-face experience does reinforce his authority and activity in my life. Do you have a story of an unexpected encounter with the Holy in the course of your day? I’d love to hear about it. My comment section is a blue link at the bottom of this post.
In Him together, Susan Gaddis
Some Sundays I’m just not in the mood to go to church. The excuse of worshipping God on a coastal beach sounds so spiritual—much better than, “I don’t want to go to church today.”
There is something about figure skating that captures my desire to worship the Lord of the Dance. Perhaps it is the smooth and flowing freedom of the dancers that speaks to me of unrestrained worship, or it could be the gracefulness of their moves upon the hard ice. Whatever the reason, this call to worship mesmerizes me.
I sometimes wonder if our gratitude is headed in the right direction. Thanksgiving Day encourages gratefulness; the majority of which is directed towards friends, family, or some unnamed source. People express what they are thankful for, but neglect to point that thankfulness in the right direction. 
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