In Search of God

I went in search of God.

My heart was nearly empty and my soul was parched. I knew that I needed something; I even knew what it was I needed. That is, I knew whom I needed. I needed God.

He had seemed so far away. My prayers were anemic, my infrequent quiet time lonely and strained. So I took off in search of the One who could fill the barren places.

I got distracted. I so easily get distracted, it seems. I’m adequate at filling in the time with good works and godly pursuits. I’m even better at filling it in with Kaye-centered activities. But I didn’t need more of me. I needed God.

I woke up this morning with a burning desire. I wanted to go hiking. I wanted to head out to Burgess Falls. I didn’t even realize why at the time. I just knew I wanted to go.

Walking along the trail, my feet were suddenly spurred on by a growing sense of anticipation. Each step brought me closer to the belly of the falls, where I knew the cacophony in my heart would be silenced by the roaring waters. I knew He was waiting for me there. And I knew how desperately I needed Him.

I don’t know why it took going to that place to hear the voice of God again. Maybe I get too caught up in the domestic things of life. Maybe my tunnel vision somehow works on my ears as well as my eyes. Maybe as the rocks and trees sing His praises, the Songwriter’s anthem is more discernible to me.

I’m grateful that He is more faithful than I am. I’m ashamed of my pitiful attempts at righteousness and my shabby treatment of the Giver of every good thing that has ever come my way. The One I call Lord is too often given anything but lordship over my life. Sometimes I find it truly incomprehensible that He would desire any kind of a relationship with me.

“For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing….What a wretched one I am! “

As I sat near the misty spray of the falls, I poured out all the junk that had been eating at my heart. I couldn’t sort it out on my own; I’d been trying that for some time now. My prayer had no rhyme or reason, no eloquent words. I had very little to offer up on behalf of anyone else. My own self-inflicted gangrenous wounds needed too much attention. But as I talked, peace came. As answers slowly formulated in my mind, I heard a voice echoing my own. As I murmured in the first person, the voice simultaneously reiterated the thoughts in third person. My tongue said, “This isn’t why I’m here.” The Other Tongue confirmed in unison, “This isn’t why you’re here.” The Other Tongue, the One who originally put the thoughts in my head, validated what He had already taught me years ago. I had just lost sight of it for a while. Sometimes I’m like a child who sticks her fingers in her ears so she can stomp her feet and insist she cannot hear.

Eventually I headed back up the trail. I stopped at the middle falls and felt drawn toward the edge. The wind seemed to whisper a message from its Maker, “Get back here, I’m not finished with you yet.” So I sat on the rocks, watching the water ripple and tumble out of sight. He continued, “I love you; I’ve always loved you. But that doesn’t mean you get a free pass. There are consequences to selfish living. And there are things I expect from one who wears My name. Think on these things.”

I saw two snakes today. Maybe they were emissaries cautioning me about the deadly perils of wandering from the path. There is only one Way, and it is a narrow one. When Jesus talked about the road to destruction being broad maybe he was talking about more than hell. Maybe he was also talking to those of us who stumble and fall as we walk out this discipleship thing; as we get sidetracked or preoccupied with trivialities and vanities; as we choose the lesser way. Heaven may still be ours, but destructive forces still leave scars. Choosing life may be more than choosing heaven. Maybe it’s also choosing the good here and now; comfort in the face of suffering, solace during difficulties, guidance through tribulation, joy and peace in both the simple and profound. I want to choose the narrow way. I want to walk in the steps of the true Pathfinder.

For those of you who know what I’m talking about, who everyday find yourself again making stupid mistakes and desperately wanting to be different, take heart. Because when Jesus said, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” He was talking about you. He was basically saying, “Blessed are the desperate, because they know in their poverty, that there is no other Source. There is no pretense, no smug self-satisfaction among them.” Hold on in your desperation and know that He is holding on to you.

One final thought about my trip into the woods of revelation. As I started to walk away I looked back across the falls to the other side of the river. From atop one of the cliffs, a tree hung upside down. It was dangling over the side, precariously holding on by its roots. I laughed aloud, feeling an affinity with that pathetic timber. Sometimes all I can do is hold on. And sometimes, I think that’s enough.