Imagine yourself as an ice cube
simply resting on the sidewalk.
God is with you.
This was a prayer/silence exercise that my friend took us through during our small group last night. We sat there in silence, some more still than others, for a whoppin' four minutes (It amuses me that four minutes of silence can cause people to become so uncomfortable, fidgety and anxious. It's so odd). As we sat there and prayed and visualized, we were encouraged to ask God how the imagery spoke to us. Did it bring a sense of rest? A sense of anxiety? Where is God during this time and in this image?
I was a glistening, square cube melting slowly into the cracks, pores, and grooves of the sidewalk. The warmth of the sun was gently but persistently transforming me into an altogether new substance--rays of sunshine bouncing and ricocheting off of some surfaces but being absorbed by others--including me, the ice cube. Hardness became a substance that flowed freely into its surroundings. There was a sense of release as I melted away. I didn't have to try; there was no striving. I was simply being and the strength of the sun was doing the rest. As I continued to melt, there was a moment when I was the small little remainder of an ice cube that was wiggling around in the puddle that had formed around me, dancing and swirling but never straying far from that place. (This spoke to me because I feel that often time stillness can be restrictive, but in reality, it is freeing.)
The image of the melting ice cube affected me deeply because I often get pictures of myself falling into a pile of pillows or sitting in the Father's lap when I'm in a state of rest, but the imagery of the melting ice cube took me into a greater place of understanding. I don't just want to rest on top of something. I want to lean into and become a part of what supports me--to melt into, to become one with the rest that is only found in my Father. To simply be in His presence is a form of worship, and that just blows my mind.
"Come to me, all you who are troubled and weighted down with care, and I will give you rest."