It’s often interesting what inspires this ragged journal. I don’t ever start these without a push, a voice, something that calls me to take words and try and formulate something that hopefully makes sense for myself and those who actually read it.
Here it goes.
I have never struggled with the reality of God. What I have struggled with is the reality of man.
This Sunday I was fortunate enough to be back at Decatur City Church for the first time in several months, holding someone precious-to-me’s hand as I listened to a truth that I think many might struggle with. But I get it.
God doesn’t change. He/She/They just are.
And for me, he’s always been there.
He’s loved me when I was unlovable. Carried me when I truly couldn’t walk, barely crawling through any real existence here. Found me when I was hiding inside a terrible marriage and gave me a breath of peace when I couldn’t calm myself.
I love the God that I know.
The one truth that I have held to dearly my entire life is the truth of a spirit, deity, god that just won’t F-ing go away. We sometimes expect this big presence, but in reality, it’s just the fact that he’s there. Not overwhelming, not giving us everything we desire. Not beating us up when we’re just stupid and all too human. But present. Listening. Not always saying the words we want to hear but rallying around us and comforting us even in the midst of darkest storms that we face.
And we often expect there to be answers. But often time it’s silence. Teaching us to dig a little deeper and find solace not only in him embracing our struggles but letting us find truth in ourselves – born of what we’ve learned from time in his presence.
I have cried. I have wailed. I’ve just about rent* my garments before him. I have yelled at, cursed, denied and spat in the face of my God. And he’s never left. He sits patiently by, waiting out the two-year-old-like tantrum of a little boy. Yet at the same time he’s guided me along the deserts, the valleys, not always opening passage to the mountain-tops, but letting me see the hard, see the parts of me that I just don’t always want to embrace. Allowing me to trust in a presence that I can’t always see or touch.
God is Love. It’s a hard concept. But it actually fits so much within the confines of our present society. The rules aren’t there. He just loves. Just cares. Just listens and maybe every once and a while gives us a little nudge in the right direction. All those old testament judgements are lost on the world of the God of Love – the man Jesus.
Funny, I still struggle with the concept of Jesus (another blog, another day...). But I embrace the hope and the love that was taught over and over from his lips. What if we tried that? To show love to each other more than hate. To grasp for our common ground instead of isolating ourselves more from anyone that wasn’t the same or shared different opinions.
I’m sitting here tonight reflecting on the times when he’s truly rescued me. But more the fact that his spirit has simply guided me along a process that allows me to be ever grateful. Grateful for each day I’ve seen him here.
Not full of judgment, but full of love for a man like me.
*Joel 2:13 - rend your heart and not your garments...
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