This was something I did with my wonderful teammates (the Steadfast Terra Nova Phillies!) – I asked them to think of who God was to them…when we prayed to God, when we talked to Him, when we thought of Him or pictured Him…who did we see? What did we see? I asked only that we would be incredibly honest with ourselves – to truly write down who God was to THEM – not the Sunday school answers, not what we are supposed to believe or say…even if there are things we know aren’t exactly right…but we are working through them…
I don’t know what God looks like…He is too holy and
blinding. Too wholly Other. I see a symbol of Him though. An icon. A
representation that allows me to enter into the presence of I AM without being
struck down. I see Him, He sees me. I am in Him, He in me. The Lord is a great,
golden, ornate, royal …Lay-Z-Boy recliner. In the same instance that I see His
power, might, authority, and distance above me, I am also given an image of a
father’s –no, a Dad’s– place. Of His compassion, His grace and forgiveness, the
utter safety in His presence, and the accessibility and immediacy of His easy
love for me and for all. I see also, however, His discipline and His call for
holiness and obedience from me. I feel in my soul when He looks in my eyes and
asks me to repent, to ask forgiveness, and to forgive others. I feel the weight
of His eternal timeline. In my prideful moments He reminds me that He is
the one in control, and in my broken moments He shows me and reminds me that I
am His beloved son.
But like any father, like any king, I must confess I don’t
understand many of the things He does, nor do I catch many of the things He
tells me. Sometimes I wonder why He cannot simply do the things Himself, or at
least help me along the way. He rarely speaks at a volume I am comfortable in
hearing – it is either too soft for me to pick up, or it is boomed at such high
decibels that I fear I’ll go deaf. I rarely feel his anger, but I do feel His
disappointment…sometimes more often than not. I can’t always understand why He
gave me someone to love so well and then snatched her away…He has told me why,
and I know His words, but in my weaker (or more human) moments they still hurt
and I still question.
Mainly, I guess, what everything boils down to is that I
don’t really understand or know Him. I think that is okay; how can the finite
created understand the Infinite Creator? …but I always want more of Him. And He
wants me kneeling humbly before His throne…so that He may pick me up and seat
me on His recliner.
