Everyday Journeys

Recently I stood for the second time in the Sistine Chapel.

It was almost exactly two years since my first visit. It amazed me how much things had changed. Not about the Chapel itself, but about me.

You see, when I was there the first time, I was undergoing information overload. I think that this happens to many of us when we encounter a new place or situation. I remember visiting quietly with my colleagues and students for the majority of the time that we were in the room, discussing the images displayed magnificently before us. I walked around the chamber trying to frantically observe every panel during the short time we were there.

This time I found a seat on a bench along the side wall. And I sat.

I thought.

I reflected.

I prayed.

I sat. And it was perfect. I allowed the quiet and beauty of the moment to challenge me as I considered God and His redemptive work throughout history.

This moment was a renewing challenge: to be still and reflect on who God is. Everyday life is remarkably busy, and I know that often I put far too many things on my plate. We are our own worst distractions. But this is not our only choice.

This morning when I woke up, I read these verses:

"But you have burdened me with your sins; you have wearied me with your iniquities. I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for My own sake, and I will not remember your sins." (Isaiah 43:24b-25)

In the same breath that God tells us He has been hurt by us, He says that He forgives us according to His divine character. AMAZING!

You see, today I do not have the luxury of the Sistine Chapel. Right now there is only God's word, a computer, and me. And I still want to marvel. I still want to be challenged. That, friends, is my hope and prayer for us all: that wherever we are at, we would be aware of God's presence shining through the moment.

Bibliography

The Holy Bible: Containing the Old and New Testaments with the Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical Books: New Revised Standard Version. New York: Oxford UP, 1989. Print.

Valleys, Mountains, and Caves

It had been a long week, full of ups and downs. What had started out as an incredible, undeniable victory had turned into chaos faster than he could have ever expected. Now, he was on the run for his life. This is not the way things should have gone. After running for a whole day, he cried out, "Lord, take my life!" Then, exhaustion having taken its toll, he stretched out beneath a tree and fell asleep.

While he slept, an angel of the Lord came twice, giving him food and water, saying, "Eat and drink, for this journey is too great for you." Refreshed he arose; strengthened by this, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he came to Horeb, the mountain of God.

Taking refuge in a cave, he heard the Word of the Lord asking, "What are you doing  here?" And he responded, declaring his own accomplishments in ministry, his terror because of his persecutors, and his ensuing depression. Then God told him to step out of the cave. When he did, the glory and power of the sovereign Lord was put on display: a wind which rent the mountains, an earthquake shaking the foundations, and a blazing fire. Then, silence; and in the stillness, God spoke again.

This event, a page from the life of Elijah, can be found in 1 Kings 19:1-18. While the word prayer may never be mentioned in this passage, I could think of no clearer example of the conversational nature of prayer. In the midst of his ordeal, Elijah cried out to God; he was honest before the Lord about everything. He was real about his struggles; then, he listened.

Jefferson Bethke writes that he believes silence is the thing which terrifies our generation the most. I tend to agree with him. He notes that "We fear silence like it's an invisible monster, gnawing at us, ripping us open, and showing us our dissatisfaction. Silence is terrifying" (5). We are uncomfortable with silence. Perhaps this is one of the reasons that we feel we need to talk so much when we pray: we fear that if we stop speaking, we may face only the silence. That, or we will hear what God has to say- a loving voice of discipline which can easily be more overwhelming than the silence itself.

This has been a busy week, and particularly morning, for me. I feel fairly certain that I am not alone in this. Our challenge, however great the chaos, whether in moments of definitive success and accomplishment or falling under the destructive weight of defeat, is to listen. We need to learn to hear as God speaks into our situations.

Bibliography

Bethke, Jefferson. Jesus>Religion: Why He is So Much Better than Trying Harder, Doing More, and Being Good Enough. Nashville, TN: Nelson, 2013. Kindle.

New American Standard Bible. La Habra, CA: Lockman Foundation, 1977. Kindle.