Meeting with God

Every day is filled with opportunities to meet with God. Every day is laden with the possibility for a divine ambush. To meet with God is an honor and a privilege that is available to everyone, but one that is fraught with danger, for you never know what God will do, or say.

God does not exist for us, but rather the other way around. In Him we live and move and have our being. He created all things, and all things were created by and for Him. He owns all things, myself included. So, to meet with Him is to meet with the awesome and terrifying King of the Universe. It is an audience with Immensity. It is a conversation with unbridled Power, Wisdom, and Glory.

It is a gift beyond measure that we can waltz into the Holy of Holies with reckless abandon. We can meet with the Immutable God without fear. For God Himself has made a way for us. He laid down His life so that we can have real life. The veil has been torn, and we now have direct access to the Father. We assume this tremendous privilege because we have always had this level of intimacy available to us, as has everyone that we have ever known, but it was not always this way. The saints and prophets of old longed for this, but died longing for what we take for granted.

So, today, I set aside time again to meet with Him. He does not always meet with me in special ways, but I set the time aside and dedicate it to seeking His face. Sometimes He visits me in special ways, and sometimes I spend the time in study and prayer with no special visitation. I have grown to enjoy both kinds of times. To be honest the times of studying His Word and intercessory prayer are often more peaceful and less painful. For when He comes, He pursues me with an intentionality and intensity that often leaves me sore from the probing of my heart.

Today was one of those times when He spoke to me. He probed my heart again and showed me that many of my decisions are made from my own desires. He graciously pressed down on some tender spots and directed me toward the place of growth for me. Unfortunately, or so it feels, that place is the crucible of isolation and obscurity. There is much more winnowing to be done in my heart. It is for my own good, and I am grateful for it, but the threshing sledge falls with terrible force to crack the husks and release the grain trapped inside. I am grateful for the meeting, if still a little sore. But it's a good sore, like the tenderness of muscles after a long, hard work out. A tenderness that speaks not of brokenness alone, but of a strength that is growing; the pain in the price of growth.