Excitedly Expressive

Excitedly expressive

By: Dr. Jeff Fuller

As I speak of my home church, it is with many fond memories.  Those folks invested in my life.  Many are still a part of my life, being very supportive of my ministry through the years, and have been an invaluable asset to my life as a disciple of Chris.

Yet, as I stated in a pervious article, it was a quiet church.  Not expressive with words of encouragement during the service or sermon, no hand raising or even outward movements of the inward presence of the work of the spirit.

Therefore, when I was invited to preach that first revival in the large country church, I found out what excitedly expressive worship was and how I longed for it.  Like water for a thirsty soul.  It was as if I had been eating steaks, but missed those sloppy, old fashioned hamburgers which was akin to comfort food.

Not long after the altar prayer, and announcements things really began to ramp up. I mean really go to an higher level of expression after an altar prayer where everyone was praying at the same time, out load. https://rockfordbaptistchurch.org/general/exciting-moment/

The choir was called up from the congregation, they grabbed a “Red Book” as directed and the saloon piano player started pounded that baby grand with all he could put into it.  The first song was something about looking for a city, and you could tell they were excited about looking for a city.  Waving and weaving, as the congregation shouted affirmation, they sang even harder, and louder.  Key changes sent them to the next level and you would have thought the tenor on the front left was going to bust a blood vessel as his face turned redder and redder and sweat popped out on his head.

Speaking of sweat, I think someone forgot to turn on the air conditioner.  It was a packed house, people singing, waving and weaving, and the temperature kept going up and up and up.  I was sweating profusely by the time they reached the final special before the sermon.

I was looking over my notes for the message, and no, I was not preaching on hell. Not at that service, but something during the week I would come to that subject.

The choir was ready, with those “Red Book’s” and they waited while the pianist gave a lengthy and powerful introduction; then the choir turned to full volume, powerful, southern singing.  It was a song which seemed to capture my soul, penetrated the dark recesses to shine the light.   My breathing began to even out, my nerves settled, the butterflies took rest; it was a moment of pure bliss…

Then the sound came from the very back of the sanctuary.  It was quiet, very faint, but as the choir was finishing up the song, the sound began to take a life of its own. It was the sound of a tea kettle on the stove, quietly hissing as steam filled the air.

A large hand slaps down on my shoulder, I jump from my seat and it was not the spirit of God, but Henry B. George who said, “Git ya’self ready, she about to come up the front.”

The tea kettle sound turned to a “Ooooh, choochoo, I feel it a’coming over me, ooooh…”

It was quiet as first, with not a person within the sanctuary moving, much less breathing.

Then louder, “Oooooh, choo-choo, oooh,” as she moved from the back of the building to the front along the side wall.  She was running as fast of those chubby little legs would move, louder and louder she made the sounds, until she was at the front, standing by the communion table.

“Choo-choo, ooooh, good, God,” with a two-stepping dance, hands raised, congregation going wild.

Then off she went down the other side, even giving the train motions as she headed toward the back and her seat.  She sat down, back to the tea kettle sound, the congregation applauded, shouting praises to the God of heaven.

I was almost ready, gathering my things together to deliver a word…

Then there was a loud rattling of the rafters, as she jumped back to her feet, saying, “In the name of the Father…ooooah, and the Son….ooooah, choo, and the Holy Spirit, oooooah.”

She was done, she sat down, she took up a fan, and was fiercely fanning.

I was looking for the bathroom.

Until next time…

(Dr. Jeff Fuller is pastor of Rockford Baptist Church.  You may reach him through the church office at 256-377-4900 or by email at rbccoosa@gmail.com.)

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