Inspiration

Hard to say where it comes from.  The Greeks thought it came from the gods, from the muses.  I suppose I still think it does, from God, from sources of creation and spirit that He oversees and delivers in mystery, in conversation, in idea and image.  My son is no doubt being inspired even as we speak, roaming the streets of Paris.  My daughter sits on a plane headed for New York, where she will work as an intern in a casting agency, no doubt finding inspiration in the Broadway plays she will see over the next six weeks, not to mention the energy of the city itself.  Yesterday, it came for me through a brief conversation with the pastor of a small inner city church in Portland.

I spoke with Ike about A Cappella music.  But what he told me about was the kingdom of God, and worship, and what it means to “bring it all.”  He told me the story of the young people at his church that worship with such impact and energy (makes me think of the word “furiously”) that they couldn’t keep the projector throwing the lyrics on the wall steady.

To inspire.  To breathe into.  To borrow breath from.   For some reason, I took some breath out of that conversation, and almost imperceptibly, began to move with a quicker step, with a lighter heart, with a more purposeful and hopeful energy.  I guess after talking about “taking Kingdom ground” on Sunday, it was great and inspiring to hear from someone so obviously doing just that.

Give breath.  Inspire.  Take ground.   Who knows what life will change…

Read that last sentence however you want…