It Sounds Like Chains Breaking.

It was amazing how quickly the freedom came back.

I used to be offended when worship leaders instructed us as a collective group to raise our hands. I used to think I simply didn't worship like that. I used to tell myself that it had nothing to do with being afraid.

Then, a few years ago, the Spirit of God shattered my carefully-constructed world and changed everything.

I didn't want to be still anymore. I didn't want to hold back. I wanted to reach up and touch Him. I wanted to fly. In that instant, I really believed I could. Sometimes, I still do.

But I am haunted by a terrible forgetfulness, and a self-consciousness that borders on obsession. And recently, in worship, I've retreated back into myself. Affix Hello, I am an introvert to my forehead, and hope it is excuse enough.

When I heard that Jesus Culture was coming to Atlanta, my heart rate picked up speed. A few weeks passed before I made the decision to go, but when I bought the ticket, it felt like inevitability.

My only fear was that the freedom would be gone. That I wouldn't be able to abandon myself as I had before.

It took all of five seconds. Arms fully extended, the songs propelled by all the air I could burst out of my lungs. And I remembered what it felt like to have the rest of the world fade. I remembered what it felt like to believe.

That night was God's gift to me, I know. A night away from myself, lost in the holy.

One of the speakers said that it's easy to worship in a crowd of Jesus-lovers, but the real test is the continuation of worship in everyday life. My heart tightened with the truth of it. Because I knew, in a way I did not understand before, that this feeling would not last forever.

But while it lasted, I reveled in it. I plunged into that stream and prayed to drown.

Two days have passed. Today, I have been tired and full of anxieties.

The thing is, even when my feelings change, my God doesn't. He is the same God in this moment as He was when my fingertips brushed heaven.

I wish I could promise to never forget, but I am no good at keeping promises. My only hope is in a God who keeps His.