Seeing God

I set my Bible down and tried to just picture the scenario.
A mountain.
A cloud.
The awesome glory of the LORD looking like a devouring flame.

"There they saw the God of Israel." (Ex 24: 10)

My mind started wandering and I couldn't help but ask myself, "If I had seen this, if I had witnessed this, if I had seen the God of Israel, how would my life be different?"

And as that thought just sat there, I couldn't help but have fanciful thoughts of my different, passionate, on-fire life; of course, it would be. How could it not if I had seen the God of Israel?

But quite honestly, I'm not sure how different their lives were. This verse comes before Israel doubts God in the wilderness (multiple times); it comes before the golden calf where they worship an idol and give it credit for their exodus from Egypt. It comes before all of these massive failures in Israel's past. So what makes me think that if I could just see God, then clearly, many of my spiritual struggles would disappear?

Simply seeing God is not enough. Seeing him-- even in all his glory and splendor-- would not be enough to permanently change my life on this Earth. My sin is still too deeply engrained in me and my habits have a fierce grip on me. Oh, if my eyes could behold and retain that image, forever etching it in my mind and my heart, then perhaps-- just maybe-- would I be capable of seeing this permanent change I so deeply desire.

But I must move past the desire to simply see him, and begin to crave experiencing him. I need to feel, taste, know, touch and believe with every fibre of my being that he is a good God. He is who he says he is and he is worthy of every ounce of my trust. I cannot just see him to know that; this level of belief, of faith, comes from experiential knowledge. I must remember the times that I have felt God in tangible ways and have seen his power... like a devouring fire.

Lord, help me to remember.

Looking back... a year later!

It seemed like it'd take an eternity and that the months would slowly inch by... moments slowly turning into minutes and then days, and then weeks... but now, a year has gone by.

A year ago I moved to Canada, and in September 2013, submitted my paperwork for permanent residency. I was told it would take 11 months for the first stage to be completed. At that point, I could apply for a work permit and enjoy the benefits of having an OHIP card.

Eleven months of no employment and no education seemed like a really long time. And it is-- don't get me wrong. I certainly had many days of watching the clock and wondering when the day would finally be over. I struggled with my identity in the midst of inactivity. I wrestled with where I placed my confidence. I learned, for the first time, what a struggle against depression really is like. I've never had to fight more for my motivation, my desire to get up, my confidence or my joy. But this year I've learned how to fight for them.

I'm still awaiting my work permit. I am expecting it next month. But as I prepare to leave this stage of transition and seemingly useless and petty activities to fill my days, I have to stop and be grateful for this time. I'm thankful for this time where I've been able to read over 20 books in the last 10 months. I'm grateful for the opportunity to get involved with non-profit after non-profit, truly getting to know the individual community I live in. I'm thankful for the time to invest in children and youth who are desperately lacking role models and individualized attention. I'm grateful for the diverse network of social connections I have become part of. I was blessed to journey with friends on a spiritual journey that I was able to invest much time into this year.  I'm so blessed to have been able to travel to Michigan, Kentucky, Illinois, Texas and the Amazon Jungle without having to request time off. Because of it, I have attended a missions conference, two out-of-country weddings and have participated in a beautiful medical missions trip.

Had I been blessed with a job a year ago, I am certain my experiences would be different. I am sure I would have learned much and have grown tremendously. But I cannot take for granted the beautiful experiences and lessons I have been able to acquire because of this unique time off.

How We Spend Our Lives

I volunteer at a high school every week and as I leave, I walk by a church. I’m used to seeing churches with their signs on the front lawns either posting their worship service times or usually, some cheesy quote for the city to see.

But this church’s quote has made me stop and think more than once.

“The way we spend our days, is of course, the way we spend our lives.” –Annie Dillard

My first, superficial reaction is to nod and think: Of course that’s the way it works. Our lives are simply days strung together. But then as that truth sinks in a bit further, I feel a bit of panic. My thoughts retrace my steps for the day and I try to think about what I did yesterday and find myself asking: Do I like how I spend my days? Am I okay with my life being spent like this? If this quote is true, then wouldn’t every one of my days be lived more intentionally? But it’s so much easier to allow the routine and the norm just flow from day to day, until suddenly, I realize that I’ve spent a year or two… just days strung together.

I think back on and cringe because of the countless minutes spent on Facebook the last month. I remember the hours spent watching TV and I feel the tiniest bit of desperation beginning to creep up my spine. I cannot spend my life like this.

So I reach out for Lucas’ hand and I give it a squeeze. I call my parents and tell them I love them. I invest my time to serve others. I log off of Facebook and go for a run; turn off the cell phone and enjoy my friends who are with me.