This I Know
If someone were to ask me what I know about God, I would be able to list very little. I know He is the ultimate artist. I know He is love. I know He is beyond time and gender and science. I know He equals beauty.
I want to know more. I want to know how He thinks Christians should respond to issues facing modern society, things like homosexuality, AIDS, genocide, the war in Iraq, and the upcoming Presidential election. I want to know what He thinks the Church should focus on: building itself up or pouring itself out to others. I want to know which theologies are correct and which ones miss the point. I want to know how much of science is truth and how much is fiction.
Obviously, my list of questions is far longer than my list of answers.
The questions sometimes suffocate me. They have the ability to drive out all faith and make room for immense doubt. The questions I have about God and religion and humanity are endless. To most of these questions, I know I will never get an answer and that sometimes suffocates me even more.
A man who knew what it was like to question God was Moses. In Exodus, Moses asked to see God’s glory. In response, God said this:
And the LORD said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the LORD, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.”
Then the LORD said, “There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen.” (Exodus 33:19-22)
Twice God tells Moses no one can see His face. The best Moses could hope for was to catch a glimpse of God’s back, to see where He had just been. He could not have survived if he had seen more than that. I assume that the glimpse Moses got of God did not answer all his questions or silence his doubts; I assume that glimpse brought additional wonder and uncertainty.
One of my favorite bands is Sigur Ros. They are an Icelandic band whose music is mostly instrumental, yet is sometimes filled with words that almost sound like a chant. I can’t understand any of the words. They are not in a language or diction I know. The music of Sigur Ros is beautiful and original and rich. It is the most worshipful music that I know of, something I’m sure isn’t intentional. Sigur Ros reminds me of God-I rarely know what’s going on in their music, but I am captured by its beauty.
So it is with God. I rarely have any answers, but I know that there is something mysterious about Him that calls me back time and time again. Grace finds me when I am my most hardened and cynical.
I read this today and it struck a chord with me:
“The truth is there are a million steps, and we don’t even know what the steps are, and worse, at any given moment we may not be willing or even able to take them; and still worse, they are different for you and me and they are always changing. I have come to believe the sooner we find this truth beautiful, the sooner we will fall in love with the God who keeps shaking things up, keeps changing the path, keeps rocking the boat to test our faith in Him, teaching us to not rely on easy answers, bullet points, magic mantras, or genies in lamps, but rather in His guidance, His existence, His mercy, and His love.”
–Donald Miller, from Searching for God Knows What
The questions are important. The answers are important. But what is most important, what is not supposed to be missed, are the glimpses of God. The journey to know God should be one of joyful surprises and awed confrontations.
Tonight, I feel a certain freedom in the mystery of God. I feel swept up in a story so much bigger than myself. I will never have all my questions answered. I will never see God’s face on this Earth. I will always wonder and poke and prod and wander, but I am part of the mystery, part of the restoration, part of the never-ending cycle of love and grace offered by the Creator of the universe. If I know little else, I know that for certain.
A Bit of Hope
This year has been extremely difficult. It has been full of challenges I have never had to face before. I have never felt older, but I have also never felt younger or as unequipped to handle the things I’ve encountered. Stress has certainly taken its toll on me, physically, mentally, and spiritually.
For the past year, hope has been hard to hang on to. Being raised in church, I always have this idea in the back of my mind that tells me God has a plan and that His plan is perfect. But when you can’t see a trace of that plan, when you are worried the plan isn’t what you would ever choose, the fear pushes out the hope.
I have realized this year how much fear controls my life. I am scared of so many things. I am scared of being abandoned. I am scared of living my life alone. I am scared of someone truly knowing who I am. I am scared of dying. I am scared of losing the people I hold most dear. I am scared that I will never have this whole spirituality thing figured out enough to live properly.
Some of my fears are seemingly tiny, insignificant things. Others are fears I have never shared with anyone. Regardless of their size, fear has no place in my life and I know this. I want hope instead. I want to hope that even if the plan God has for me isn’t the one I prayed for, that I will still be able to walk down that path with faith and joy, no matter how small either turn out to be.
I am hoping the remaining months of this year will be better than the ones that have preceeded them. I am feeling stronger and happier already. I am feeling more and more hope spill into my life.
Whenever autumn gets closer, I begin to feel a sense of renewal. It is my favorite season and I eagerly anticipate it all year. I love the crisp air. I love the leaves. I love the colors. I love the boots and school supplies and apple cider and pumpkin goodies. I love it all.
I begin my third year of college this September. I am incredibly excited to go back. Back in May during finals week, I was at the end of my rope. With the stress of life plus the stress of school, I was a mess. I thought I would never want to return to classes again. By early July, I was more than eager. I love school, and I’m thrilled to be returning. I’m looking forward to each of my classes and feel hopeful that this semester will be my best yet.
As I said, I have felt extremely young this year. Another friend recently got engaged and is traveling to Africa for 4.5 months. Half of my friends now are married or engaged. Some are homeowners. Some have kids. Looking at their lives sometimes, I feel like a kid playing dress-up as an adult. But while their changes have been mostly external, mine have been internal. I am learning to be okay with who I am. I am learning that all of my quirks make me who I am. I am learning how to be secure in my identity and not to seek validation so much from other people.
Hope has been rare this year, so I am extremely grateful for the amount I hold tonight. I am blessed, even in my trials and anxiety. I hope to remember that always.
