Category: God (Page 7 of 14)

Blinded by the light

While my evening Pandora listening fluctuates between Mumford & Sons or Nora Jones stations, my morning routine is dominated by the David Crowder Band worship station. This morning I took note of how many of the songs revolved around God’s presence during hard times – storms, raging seas and general calamity. Much of the language (though, thankfully, not all) includes an element of God lifting us out of the pit, our places of desperation.

Looking at it with a historical-critical approach, a good amount of worship music amassed just after our country went through its collective dark time of 9/11 and now we’ve been introduced to living in an era of uncertainty. I recall (a personal favorite) Blessed Be the Name rising in popularity after the towers fell, as a response to tragedy. Later, I sang David Crowder’s Never Let Go on repeat while I miscarried our first baby. I would “sing until it’s true” and music became a rope to pull me from the depths of grief.

It’s a beautiful thing to find God’s presence in the darkness. We need to see the light breaking through.

The other morning, we headed east toward the school and drove directly into the sun’s blinding morning rays. I tried sunglasses, a visor and even my hands to block the glare and see the stoplights. The light was so bright – as one of my kids says, “there’s too much day!” – I couldn’t see right in front of me.

As a culture, we’re good at finding God in the darkness. But could we be blinded by the light?

Is it possible to have so much light, so many good things, that we can barely sense God’s presence? Instead we settle for the neon and chrome the world artificially produces.

When you ask people of faith why they believe, they often site the ways in which God got them through the hard times, which is good and right. Such experiences are unshakable. Finding God in the darkness is not the easy way out. Perhaps, just as believing is often finding God in the darkness, a life of  faithfulness means finding God in the light.

Just before God took his people into the Promised Land, he told them (Deuteronomy 6) through Moses: When the Lord your God brings you into the land he swore to your fathers, to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, to give you—a land with large, flourishing cities you did not build, houses filled with all kinds of good things you did not provide, wells you did not dig, and vineyards and olive groves you did not plant—then when you eat and are satisfied, be careful that you do not forget the Lord, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. (Emphasis mine)

Though far from perfect, I’m living a pretty blessed life right now. We have strong families behind us, friends among us, a family of faith around us. We can pay our bills and feed our family with enough to spare to send them to a wonderful preschool and go on vacation. We’re healthy, happy and free. If my faith was only big enough for God to move into the darkness, then it would be a pretty small place for Him right now. The challenge, then, is to keep moving toward the true light.

Weaned by God

My last two babies nursed all. the. time. Of course they “slept through the night” – they slept supremely well for 3 hours, until they needed their next milk fix.  Of course, they didn’t “need” to eat, but it was like Ponderosa in the late 80’s and if you have chicken wings readily available, why not enjoy a few more for the sake of deliciousness? For my life situation, including 2-3 other sleeping children in rooms nearby, it was easier to feed them than endure the cries that come with learning to wait until breakfast, so I continued to nurse 2-3 times a night. It was simply life and it didn’t frustrate me much after I came to terms with it. (Though, saying it 6 months on the other side of sleeping only in 3 hour increments, I sound more gracious than what I perhaps felt at the time.)

One to two days after we fully weaned, my children didn’t wake for feedings. It didn’t take long to remind them that the shop was closed and dark time was for sleeping, not the buffet. Within the week, there was a new freedom to our relationship. They didn’t just want me to feel better, which they had historically achieved by filling their belly. Now our snuggles and our time together, just living each day, filled that need.

One of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott, chooses to refer to God in the feminine and I appreciate her bringing to light the fact that God carries both natures – he created both man and woman in his image. I think only a God who created nursing mothers would inspire the words of King David in Psalm 131.

Psalm 131

My heart is not proud, Lord;
my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
But I have calmed myself
and quieted my ambitions.
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.
Israel, put your hope in the Lord
both now and forevermore.

The great King David, the one who put mighty Israel on the map. The man who ruled, bringing prosperity to all, with an eye and a heart for the downtrodden. A king, who, when you overlook that adultery, murder and misuse of power mishap, gave a great face to the God of Israel. In fact, I was reading about the idea of “the Kingdom of God” and much of our understanding of that phrase goes back to David’s rule, where it was understood to be a manifestation of God’s reign among his people. To say that David did great and mighty things – “great matters or things too wonderful” – would be an understatement. David was not a sit-back-and-see-what-happens kinda guy.

But this bit of poetry casts David’s heart in a new light. While he was all about the Lord’s work, he also knew his place. His relationship with God became such that he didn’t constantly crave what God could give him, but rather God’s presence. Like a weaned child – not a child driven by a belly’s growl. Not a baby, who, though she loves her mother, defines her mother’s love by what is given or how often it is offered.

Like a weaned child I am content. God has provided. He has proven his ability to give what I need. Now I don’t need God to serve me to be content with him.

Reading this, I’m prone to believe that there was a time in David’s life that he was concerned with great matters. Being a King, one would hope so. But this particular phase in life, David calmed himself and quieted his ambitions. Now David and God connected through presence, not productivity. David didn’t stop ruling the nation; he simply stopped believing that provision was the only way to understand or experience God.

It turns out, the hand of God, or – more accurately, from this Psalm – the breast of God, isn’t the only way draw close to Him Her.

Celebrate Sunday

[box] “O God, who makest us glad with the weekly remembrance of the glorious resurrection of they Son our Lord…”

-The Book of Common Prayer, A Collect for Sundays[/box]

Antonio Brilla's The finding of the empty tomb of Christ

Antonio Brilla’s The finding of the empty tomb of Christ

I’ve heard it said that we’re an “Easter People.” But on any given Sunday, is that true? The last time I have chanted He is Risen! was on Easter and then alone.

We tend to point to a cross when we need the empty grave. 

Why are we so stuck on Friday? We recount the sin of that day, the hurt, the awful. Friday has its rightful day of the week, the day of mourning and grief.

But it’s Sunday! He took that to the grave and left it there.

We choose to gather on Sunday, the day the women sprinted back to the disciples and revealed that Christ had beat all that we feared. Their burial spices were useless because Jesus left an empty tomb. Life, as we know it, will never be the same.

Today, on Sunday, don’t live in Friday. Live Sunday. Resurrection. Every Sunday.

[box] “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

-Jesus, John 16:33[/box]

 

 

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