God of the Moments

I saw God last night.

Last night, I had an evening to myself- no shows, nothing to do, and basically just an opportunity to relax. I cooked dinner, read a book, and essentially had one of the most relaxing nights I have had in quite some time. In short- it was amazing. As I was waiting for the food that I was cooking to thaw, I decided to go for a walk. So, I grabbed Lola's (the dog) leash, and we set out for an exploration of the neighborhood. We had no agenda, no real time limit and no real way of knowing what was going to come of the night. I just knew it was a gorgeous night and I wanted to be a part of it.

I had never really taken a stroll through my neighborhood before. I'd gone on a few runs, but the houses and people whizzed by my eyes in a blurry and pain laden (I hate to run) medley of homogenized home ownership while I focused so intently on the task at hand- getting the run finished as quickly as possible. I had never taken the time to stroll and embrace the neighborhood that last night afforded me. It really is quite interesting the differences you see when you take the time to actually see. In the interests of being a cliche writer and poet, I saw beautiful colors on display in front yards, and heard dogs small and great barking at our passing. I saw quirky welcome mats and "He is Risen" signs, saw dinner being delivered and tables being set, saw children playing football, and families riding bikes. I saw life happening- and it was there that I saw God.

I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine last night. They were caught in a place we all find ourselves far too often, a place of frustration. This friend knows that there is a plan and a purpose for her life, but is frustratingly trying to sort out just what that plan and purpose is. All the familiar questions get asked- "where am I going," "what do these gifts mean," "am I making the right decisions," and on and on they go. Ultimately though, these questions can be boiled down to one question- "do YOU really have a plan that I'm a part of, and why can't I know what it is?" My friend was facing a crisis, not of faith, but of trust. They didn't know how to express their lack of trust and would never admit to it, being from a strong Christian family, but nevertheless there it stood, staring them in the face like the blinking "do not walk" signs I confronted on my journey through my neighborhood. And in that, my friend was missing God, the God I was able to see last night.

I'm talking about the God of the moments. The God I saw was the one who finds himself glorified on balmy spring nights where the wind carries the fragrance of grill smoke and cut grass, and the air holds the melodies of laughter and memories made. The God I saw was the one who takes great pleasure in fathers making last minute grocery store runs while mothers and children set the table, takes immense joy in large glasses of wine raised in celebration of stories told that bring people closer together, and whose praises are heard as children discover the joy of a lawn beneath their feet. This God I am speaking about is the one who bids us to enjoy the moments that make up our dream, and not become so focused on "finishing the run" that we lose sight on the neighbors and conversations, the laughter and sweet fragrances, the aromas and sounds that make every moment through which we pass rich with the very presence of God.

Yes, there is something to which we are called. Yes, we have unique giftings and abilities which will enable us to be a part of a dynamic story that's been unfolding over time. Yes there will always be a frustration that comes from not fully knowing now what our then will consist of. But, I must learn, as my friend must as well, that my life is not comprised of a series of days strung together in the direction of a purpose, but as I heard someone say, a series of todays, each with their own purposes and victories and each with their own stories. It is so easy to focus on how the larger story unfolds, and to think that this chapter in our lives is but that- a chapter. But what if this is more than a chapter? What if this is a story unto itself? What if embracing and wholly being a part of this moment is in fact a telling of a tale that would make even Aesop take note? And what if, in the telling of and living in our story, we were able to see God as He wants to be seen right now, in this moment?

"Seek the Lord while you can find him.
Call on him now while he is near."
-Isaiah 55:6 (NLT)

Shadows and light

Last night, my girlfriend looked at me, pierced through me and spoke straight to my heart. In ways that challenged and chastised me, she spoke out of a love that only comes from a relationship with Christ and an ability to hear His voice. It was both scary and amazing. Scary because it again proves that God can absolutely use whomever he wants to speak truth whenever he wants, and amazing because it shows a love that is completely incomprehensible. Her expression of love got me thinking about how Christ continually manifests himself in my life.

The past few weeks have been exceptionally rough for me, and I have been fighting through varying waves of depression. Now, don't worry, nothing drastic is on the horizon for me as far as my response to this sense of depression, but it's definitely been there, hovering just above me and keeping me from being wholly effective in much of anything that I do. So, as I always have done in the past, I sought escapes from the reality of the dark life I felt I was experiencing. I sought alternative realities to the one I was living daily, knowing these were false hopes, but wanting, needing, the escape, even if just for an hour or two. As it always does, it proved unfruitful and only served to drive a wedge between God and I as I was running away from Him as opposed to heading towards Him.

Throughout the course of this time, God has again and again reached out His hand through His people to speak life to me, and in the most unlikely of ways. A friend with whom I seldom talk about the issues of my life called me out of the blue to speak a very specific prophetic word to me about my situation, good friends call and text for no reason, messages at church are seemingly targeted directly towards me, and on and on the list goes- God is after my heart and if I am able to step back for a moment, I see how beautiful that pursuit is. I see how masterfully God is orchestrating encounter after encounter so that I will know that I am not alone. I see how seemingly meaningless words suddenly take on a level of comfort that they otherwise would not have had. I see how love is being proved tangible in my life. Though this is one of my "dark nights of the soul," I still see how God is very evidently at work in everything, not in the way that things are necessarily and immediately getting better, but in the way that in the midst of the night God is there as a guiding light. It's like Psalm 119 says, that Jesus "is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path." It's not that the sky is suddenly illumined and all vestiges of darkness flee, but rather that, in the midst of the darkness, in the midst of that which would cause me to stumble, fall, and feel pain, God is there ensuring that I have just enough light to not give up, just enough to know that there is a hope of further light because of the glimmer that I now see.

My brother recently said something extremely profound to me. In talking about Psalm 23, he commented on the passage in verse 4 where the psalmist writes that even in the valley of the shadow of death, he will not be afraid. Anyone that has been involved in Christianity for any length of time has undoubtedly heard this scripture, and what is all too often focused on is that death is nothing to be afraid of because the overarching theme is that God's got your back. But I think there's another underlying message in that scripture- that of the shadow. Dictionary.com defines shadow as "a dark figure or image cast on the ground or some surface by a body intercepting light." And in that is God's bigger promise in the passage. This shadow of death can only exist because death, in all its powerlessness can only show itself evident in this valley because it has intercepted light. John 9:5 says that Christ is the "light of the world," so any shade of darkness, any shadow, can only exist because He allows it. Shadows are only places where the light is not yet bright enough to fully dispel the darkness- so it is true of my life. These shadows that sometimes seem so frightening because I feel as if I am living in them, are really nothing more than harbingers of Christ not yet fully revealed in a situation in my life. God's constant responses in love through friends, and sermons, sunrises and scripture are His attempts to remind me that the light in whatever area of my life seems darkest is more than just on its way, it is already there and providing hope of a brighter day when shadows cease and light dawns full upon my heart. The dark night of the soul is indicative of, not an end, but rather a beginning that has yet to, and is in the process of emerging.

Yeah, this is how I process- I write. Thanks for walking through the journey with me and for always listening to and reading the musings of a man who continues to wrestle with grace and purpose.

image sourced from fineartamerica.com

Intarsia

There's a lot running through my mind right now. It is therefore my hope that it all congeals into some sort of concentrated thought process. We'll see.

I was at House Church a few weeks ago when an interesting topic came up. It was the idea that so many of the people my age seem to dabble in so many different things, never necessarily settling on one particular passion. We might be passionate about the arts, while at the same time passionate about ending world hunger, while at the same time desiring to be a successful business person, while at the same time holding aspirations of being a model, musician, singer, artist...you get the idea. For the longest time, I would look at the seemingly schizophrenic nature of my interests, the things that at times seemed to war against each other (or at least be in sharp competition) and think, "I really need to pick one." I just knew that the only way for me to truly be "happy" in life was to focus on something that I was good at, or could get good at and pursue it with all the fire and gusto that I could muster. I knew that it was absolutely necessary for me to choose. I couldn't have the proverbial cake and eat it at the same time- it was up to me to choose. But then I heard something from an associate of mine that has forever changed the way I view my passions, many and varied as they might be. I'm a part of the mosaic generation.

Let's start with some basic definitions. A mosaic is distinctly defined as "a picture or decoration made of small, usually colored pieces of inlaid stone, glass, etc. " according to our wonderful friends at dictionary.com. So let's unpack that for a moment . The picture, whatever it may be, could not exist were it not for the individual, seemingly disjointed elements that are fit (sometimes perfectly and sometimes imperfectly) together. By themselves and standing on their own, each little pebble, piece of broken glass or metal is relatively inconsequential. Sure, some may have some level of intrinsic value based on their luster, their shape, or some other aesthetic property, but by and large, they're worth very little alone. In fact, in many cases, had the pieces not been used for some artistic purpose, they may even have been discarded. But here they sit, ready to be used to create a grand design that no one but the artist can fathom. So, slowly and painstakingly he or she places one small piece ever so gingerly, ever so carefully on the canvas of choice. A red pebble bunches tight against a shard of the sharpest broken glass, a crushed marble shimmering in its iridescence is juxtaposed harshly next to a smooth surfaced piece of iron, while paper thin layers of pearl lay ever so sweetly beside common gravel. Why and for what purpose are these seemingly incongruous elements coming together? What does my love for art have to do with my desire to see equality come to the most impoverished areas of our world? What does my love of "the finer things in life" have to do with how saddened I am when I walk next to a child who's next meal isn't accounted for? What does any of it have to do with anything else? I have no idea.

But here's what I know- I know that there's a piece of art being created. I know that the days of picking and choosing only the things at which we think we can excel wholeheartedly are, if not gone, then relegated to an ever shrinking majority. But for those of us within the minority, for those of us who have looked at the landscape of our life and wondered if there was something wrong with us, wondered if we were scattered or missing it because we just couldn't seem to "settle down" know that we are passionate about all the things we are passionate about, and there's no fault in that. We are passionate about changing the world and loving living in ours. We are passionate about pursuing the desires of our heart and changing the hearts of others. We are passionate about having our life count for more than nothing, more than the pursuit of a fleeting, fantastical notion that this is all there is. We are passionate about much, and we are in love with the idea that what we pursue- all we pursue- is part of some grander glory. We believe that the pains of these experiences we face, the unease we sense at being complacent, the constant internal drive to evolve, be better, change, is all a part of some grander plan. This is all a part of some greater...something that points to the "glory that will be revealed in us." This seeming mess of passion and emotions is actually something much bigger. This is the desireS of my heart and yours joining together side by side in their disjointed way and making something beautiful. This is asphalt beside gold, and diamond beside glass. This is copper atop ruby, noble against ignoble, and glory upon glory because God created it and when he created it, all of it, it was "good."