Have you ever noticed the profound things you come across when sitting in absolute silence? I'm sitting next my window, with my computer serving as the only illumination, listening to the wind dancing about the trees in my back yard. There is something so great about listening to the sound of wind in trees... Even though you can't see the wind, you can see it's effects... Visibly, you can see tree branches waltzing with great rhythm, creating a magnificent rustling noise that is so easily identifiable. The wind is a mysterious thing... No place of origin, and no destination... and yet, everywhere present.
I've been struggling lately with the presence of God. He and I had an intense discussion yesterday about my need for tangible objects - I need to see, touch, hear, and feel things. God wired me up to be incredibly dependent upon my senses, and I use them a great deal in my process of understanding. So, our intense discussion started out something like this, "God, I know you exist - I have many good reasons to believe this. But why can't I seem to love you - the way I've heard so many talk about you. They talk with great passion, with great adoration. I've read about all the things you have done. But I have not see them, touched them, heard them, or felt them. I cannot reach out my hand for you to hold. I cannot throw my arms around you when I'm overjoyed, or crawl into your lap and cry when I am sad. People tell me that is what prayer is for... But to me, that seems like telling a man who needs food for nourishment to think about eating. I know that prayer and the study of your Word is how I'm supposed to connect with you, but God, what am I supposed to do when what I need is physicality and tangibility... How do I love you when I can't even see You?"
To some, this argument, this intense questioning of God may seem somewhat elementary. I realize these are questions that kids ask. However, if I am going to approach God in an honest manner, than I need to do just that - be honest. And my struggle with not being able to see, touch, hear, or feel God is real and genuine. So my question is, what do I do?
As I sat listening to the wind tonight, I couldn't help but wonder if that was my answer. Does it totally fill the void of not being able to have my hand held, be embraced, or have a shoulder to cry on when it comes to God? Not entirely... But it is the "tangibility" (is that a word? if not, it should be...) I have been looking for. God is similar to the wind. I cannot see the wind - it does not have an origin or a destination - and yet, I can see that it is moving. I can see and hear it's effects. While I cannot throw my arms around God, I can see his effects, his movements... If I only look.
Listening to the trees tonight, I realized that I don't often pay attention to that sound. So often, I'm engulfed by the craziness that is life, so entranced by the fast paced, "gotta keep moving" culture around me, that I don't take time to listen to things like the wind blowing through the trees. And that's when it hit me... I don't listen or look for God either. Everything in my life is commercialized - it's fast, it's flashy, and it's convenient. But how often in the Bible was God fast, flashy, and convenient? Almost never... How often was God found in the quiet? In the forgotten places? In the stillness? Almost always.
So I ought to reconsider asking quesitons like, "God, where are you?" I often think about Job when I ask questions. Poor guy. Have you ever read Job? If not, I highly suggest picking it up. Great book. But after all the most horrific things happen to him, he asks God the big "W" question - Why. And man, does God have an answer for him. Everytime I read those verses, I'm petrified of asking God questions... However, I soon forget the story of Job, and continue to ask questions such as "Ok God, where are you? SHOW UP!" When really he's whispering, "I've been here all along... you're the one who forgot to show up."
The sound of the trees remind me that I need to look, listen and reach for God... he's already extended the "tangibles." I just need to be diligent enough to go looking for them.
May the sound of the trees continue to remind me.
3 comments:
I appreciate your honesty. Continue to pursue God and He will reveal Himself in ways you couldn't think of!
We are trying to instill in Ainzley already that God is like the wind. You can't see him, but you can feel his presence and know that he is near. I don't know if she gets it, but it helps me to know that someone else uses the same ideas to connect to God. I really liked this post....you're amazing!
Good post. Asks a lot of honest questions.
One thing about Job is that God never tells him what's going on. Job calls God to account for what's happening to him and instead of an answer, God says simply, "I'm God. You're not God. Who are you to question me?"
As for how to see God, I believe more and more that nature bears the marks of its creator. The sky is as close to infinite as we can understand, and if you ever want to see God's love, consider the family dog who loves its owners regardless of what's going on. I think God created nature with the primary purpose of pointing us towards Him.
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