These past few weeks tiny tiny things have helped me to realize God's presence: a kind man who helps me with my car-trouble; seeing goldfinches who play in the rain when I know that logically goldfinches aren't really lawrencian natives; feeling the financial crunch and getting a check in the mail; crying real, honest, cleansing tears and then standing up and walking on in faith; buying the first watermelon and blueberries of the season; picnics and slushies in the quicktrip parking lot; sunsets; literal green pastures; finding exactly the research I need in exactly the amount of time I have; and on and on the list goes. These things aren't exactly earthshattering, and they're not the kind of thing you make reality christian TV about, but in these past weeks of stress and worry they have spelled the difference for me between alone and loved.
Last night I was reading from one of my favorite ladies, Carole Mayhall, and she talked of the extraordinary in among the ordinary: those brief moments when the curtain is pulled back to reveal eternity. We can't live in the eternal right now, but sometimes, and I think it's most often when we are pressed down by life's circumstances, God generously pulls back the curtain to reveal himself and to encourage us that he IS. He is present and working even when it seems that the world around us is crumbling just a bit; he reveals the eternal and gives us a helping of perspective so that we will be enabled to keep walking.
"In the bustle of brimming-full days, when I hear only strident voices and roaring engines, God's meadowlarks keep singing. But how can my heart be cheered, or my soul be stirred, or my spirit be lifted in joy, when I don't hear? How can he lead me beside the still waters when I've kicked into passing gear in the fast lane of life? How can God restore my soul when I don't take time to sit at the feet of Jesus?"
-- Carole Mayhall
It seems as though it ultimately comes down to my heart's attitude toward Jesus. I run and I rush because I want to be in control, but in those little moment's he tenderly reminds me that what he really longs for is me. Me, sitting at his feet confiding in him as he reveals himself to me. And in that moment I am free and content and all of these things, the worries, the finals, the problems, come into the focus of his presence and his power.
