A call to worship.

I close my eyes
and rest my fingertips
upon the rough fabric
of the seat in front of me
to anchor myself to reality
lest I should float away
into You.

A feminine voice
flows out of the loud speaker;
she beckons me forward
but I do not come,
I will not come.

A shiver threatens to
move through my body.
It would start at my toes
up through my spine,
dance across my shoulder blades,
spin in my head
and blossom there,
but I swallow it down
and brace myself.
I refuse to be carried away.

The shiver nudges at me again
and a third time,
but three times, I refuse it,
even as the voice is calling
and telling me about choices
that I must chose to love,
I cannot be made to do it.

And I know You,
as often as I have turned from You
I know You.
And I recognize You here with me
as I make my guarded approach
again,
but You have said
You wanted all of me.
And I fear,
a loss of control.

So,
even as my feet ache to move,
and my heart to surrender,
I press my fingers deeper into the
plush pink chair
lest I should float away
into You.