Such a curious scripture. Adam and Eve knew they had sinned. They bit into the forbidden fruit and disappointed Creator God. They forgot how he provided for all their needs and how they enjoyed those long talks with him each evening. One bite was enough to send them into panic mode. They looked for a giant bush and hid.
God walked in the garden, longing to talk with his favorite creation and asked, “Where are you?”
How strange that the One who painted dots on lady bugs and stripes on zebras asked that question. Obviously, the one true God who knew how to position planets so they wouldn’t slam into each other also knew where this fearful man and his wife were hiding.
But he asked, “Where are you?”
God asks the same of us. When he wants us to slow down our frantic pace and listen for his soft baritone – where are you? When we’re afraid to approach him because we’ve disappointed the only One who loves us completely, he knows we’re hiding from repentance. Where are you? When we’re angry because he took someone away from us or allowed us to lose jobs or didn’t rescue us from that dreadful diagnosis, he reminds us that he has a bigger plan. Where are you?
Of all the phrases in the Bible, this may be the most poignant. The question of a loving God who cares so much for our frail substance that he constantly searches. The Almighty who is lonely for his loved ones and just wants a few moments of uninterrupted conversation. The longing heart of divine intimacy, searching and pleading and always knowing the answer.
Where are you?
Hiding from God delays His loving arms wrapped around us and His whispered, “I love you.” But only for an instant. He will always find us, because He already knows where we are.
We are where we have always been – in need of Him.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Private Pain
Recently, I was given a free pass to a fitness center. What a blessing to walk around a spongey track in an air-conditioned facility during one of the hottest times of the year.
As I circled the track, trying to increase my speed, I noticed the other people working out. Most of them were alone, plugged in to their MP3 players or some sort of encouragement tape to keep them going. One lady read her Kindle while bicycling. Another man measured his heart rate every few miles. Their faces grimaced as they tried another weight or increased the speed of the machine. They fought through the pain – alone.
We were never meant to bear our pain alone. Even walking around the track is more enjoyable with another person. And certainly, the struggles and burdens of life are easier to bear when shared with someone else. We need accountability partners and cell groups and mentors to help us talk through things and figure out how to deal with life, how to pray, how to learn more about trust.
Even Jesus felt uncomfortable bearing his pain alone. “Couldn’t you stay with me?” he asked his disciples. “Why have you forsaken me?” he cried out to his Father.
Whether we struggle to get our bodies into shape or work on soul-stretching, it helps to have another human being beside us. Isolation digs a rut that makes the pain worse and deepens the aggravation. But sharing life with another Christ-follower lightens the load. We sense relief in the struggle.
Then we find hope as we work out life together.
As I circled the track, trying to increase my speed, I noticed the other people working out. Most of them were alone, plugged in to their MP3 players or some sort of encouragement tape to keep them going. One lady read her Kindle while bicycling. Another man measured his heart rate every few miles. Their faces grimaced as they tried another weight or increased the speed of the machine. They fought through the pain – alone.
We were never meant to bear our pain alone. Even walking around the track is more enjoyable with another person. And certainly, the struggles and burdens of life are easier to bear when shared with someone else. We need accountability partners and cell groups and mentors to help us talk through things and figure out how to deal with life, how to pray, how to learn more about trust.
Even Jesus felt uncomfortable bearing his pain alone. “Couldn’t you stay with me?” he asked his disciples. “Why have you forsaken me?” he cried out to his Father.
Whether we struggle to get our bodies into shape or work on soul-stretching, it helps to have another human being beside us. Isolation digs a rut that makes the pain worse and deepens the aggravation. But sharing life with another Christ-follower lightens the load. We sense relief in the struggle.
Then we find hope as we work out life together.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Sensory Connections
In the writing class I’m teaching, we’re studying sensory connections – those incredible five senses God has given us to enrich our lives. Where would we be without the sight of a blooming red hibiscus or the powder-fresh smell of our babies or the juicy taste of summer watermelon or the soft-as-a-lamb’s-ear rose petal or the majesty of a 500 member male chorus belting out the Hallelujah Chorus? How bland our lives would be without the five senses!
Yet there is another sense that we sometimes neglect and that is the spiritual sensory connection that God so longs to have with us. In his book Taste and See, Tim Dearborn writes, “Sensory spirituality restores passion to the spiritual life…we constantly seek signs of God’s presence, the sounds of God’s voice in everything that surrounds us.”
During so much of our 24-hour opportunities, we suffer from TMI Disease (Too Much Information). This invasion of our senses blasts from television screens, from radios on the daily commute, from the IPad and the phone apps and the PCs we automatically set to retrieve our “Favorites.” Some of this invasion descends from the necessary plots of life, the workforce and the electric baby-sitter and the “need” to keep up with what’s going on.
But I wonder how lonely God is – for the sound of his children spending valuable minutes in conversation with him, for the precious sight of his sons and daughters on our knees with our heads in his lap. Chained by TMI, we cannot discern the divine whisper nor feel the spiritual electricity of the Spirit’s companionship. We miss the aroma of a thousand angels posting guard at our babies’ cribs, and we wonder at our own loneliness.
My monthly planner fills up quickly, but I have challenged myself to schedule time for more sensory connections with my Maker. I was created for more than just information. To glorify God and enjoy Him forever, I promise to spend more time – reveling in the sensory connection of grace.
Yet there is another sense that we sometimes neglect and that is the spiritual sensory connection that God so longs to have with us. In his book Taste and See, Tim Dearborn writes, “Sensory spirituality restores passion to the spiritual life…we constantly seek signs of God’s presence, the sounds of God’s voice in everything that surrounds us.”
During so much of our 24-hour opportunities, we suffer from TMI Disease (Too Much Information). This invasion of our senses blasts from television screens, from radios on the daily commute, from the IPad and the phone apps and the PCs we automatically set to retrieve our “Favorites.” Some of this invasion descends from the necessary plots of life, the workforce and the electric baby-sitter and the “need” to keep up with what’s going on.
But I wonder how lonely God is – for the sound of his children spending valuable minutes in conversation with him, for the precious sight of his sons and daughters on our knees with our heads in his lap. Chained by TMI, we cannot discern the divine whisper nor feel the spiritual electricity of the Spirit’s companionship. We miss the aroma of a thousand angels posting guard at our babies’ cribs, and we wonder at our own loneliness.
My monthly planner fills up quickly, but I have challenged myself to schedule time for more sensory connections with my Maker. I was created for more than just information. To glorify God and enjoy Him forever, I promise to spend more time – reveling in the sensory connection of grace.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Readings
Lately, I’ve been reading a couple of books that deal with the giftings of women. Hidden in Plain View by Jacqueline Tobin and Raymond Dobard describes how the women of the 1860’s used quilts to help the slaves who were using the Underground Railroad. The different patterns on the quilts signified which direction to go toward freedom or which house might provide safety. The women hung quilts on their front fences or folded them and took them inside, depending on the signals they needed to give. These creative women pointed black people toward liberty by using design and color, disguised as a quilt.
The other book, Half the Church, by Carolyn Custis James uses insights and experiences to point out another type of slavery. James reminds us that sex trafficking and abuse occur all over the world – including the squalid jungles of our American cities. Young girls are sold into bondage to be used and abused by the lust of men and the greedy cravings of their owners. As Christian women, we spiritual warriors must put on our armor and do whatever is necessary to stop this tragedy.
James also reminds us that as women, we have many giftings and should not hide our gifts behind the cement walls of submission. Although Biblically, we should submit to leadership when a difference of opinion occurs, that does not mean we should accept a spirit of apathy about our gifts – especially when we might be able to save a life.
At first glance, these books might seem vastly different. One deals with a subject pertinent to the Civil War while the other involves our present 21st century. But in actuality, both books shout the same theme – human rights. Freedom for captives of race and gender deserves the attention of all God’s children, and we women can rally to meet the need.
Since God has gifted us with compassion and creativity, we have a responsibility to use our giftings to help others. We, the female portion of the dust people, must continue to hang our quilts to point captives toward freedom – whether that means a physical or a spiritual liberty. We, the female half of the church, must also loosen the bonds of spiritual abuse within the Church so that we can develop programs and work beside our brothers.
I challenge all of us to do whatever necessary – even if it means a march against the status quo – to use our creativity and our intelligence to be an equal half of the Church, to rescue those in slavery, to follow the radical social justice outlined in Micah 6:8.
Since Jesus risked it all to save us, can we do any less to save others?
The other book, Half the Church, by Carolyn Custis James uses insights and experiences to point out another type of slavery. James reminds us that sex trafficking and abuse occur all over the world – including the squalid jungles of our American cities. Young girls are sold into bondage to be used and abused by the lust of men and the greedy cravings of their owners. As Christian women, we spiritual warriors must put on our armor and do whatever is necessary to stop this tragedy.
James also reminds us that as women, we have many giftings and should not hide our gifts behind the cement walls of submission. Although Biblically, we should submit to leadership when a difference of opinion occurs, that does not mean we should accept a spirit of apathy about our gifts – especially when we might be able to save a life.
At first glance, these books might seem vastly different. One deals with a subject pertinent to the Civil War while the other involves our present 21st century. But in actuality, both books shout the same theme – human rights. Freedom for captives of race and gender deserves the attention of all God’s children, and we women can rally to meet the need.
Since God has gifted us with compassion and creativity, we have a responsibility to use our giftings to help others. We, the female portion of the dust people, must continue to hang our quilts to point captives toward freedom – whether that means a physical or a spiritual liberty. We, the female half of the church, must also loosen the bonds of spiritual abuse within the Church so that we can develop programs and work beside our brothers.
I challenge all of us to do whatever necessary – even if it means a march against the status quo – to use our creativity and our intelligence to be an equal half of the Church, to rescue those in slavery, to follow the radical social justice outlined in Micah 6:8.
Since Jesus risked it all to save us, can we do any less to save others?
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