Alone in a Crowd

As I write this, I am on a crowded train. People all around me studiously avoid eye contact with those not in their travel group.

We are all together, but not really. We are together, but not present.

Some read their papers. Some play with their phones. Others read books. I type on my computer.

The lady behind me is having a very personal conversation on her mobile phone. Her volume and cockney accent caught my attention at first, but when I realized the nature of her conversation, I put in my headphones and cranked up some Beethoven so as to not be privy to the information she shares with all of us, as well as the person on the other end of the phone.

It is as if the rest of us simply do not exist.

It reminds me of a Brian Regan comedy routine where he lampoons people he has observed for living in "You world" rather than the world the rest of us share.

I suppose that is the definition of inconsiderate. It is literally not considering, not thinking about, another. I don't believe it is done out of malice.

I guess this all strikes me particularly today because I am returning from a trip where much of my ministry flowed from the ministry of presence. My work began with being fully present in the moment, to God, to myself, and to others. From that place of presence, I was able to listen and care for people who needed it.

After several days of presence, the opposite is startlingly clear, almost shocking. And yet, God is present even here, while I am alone, with Him, in a crowd. So, I lean back in my seat, enjoying Beethoven's music and the presence of God.

The Advent of Power

As we draw near to Christmas, we often see nativity scenes and sing songs that reflect on little baby Jesus. There is nothing wrong with drawing up beside the manger and gazing in wonder at God wrapped in the skin of a helpless, human baby. It is good and right that we wonder at His humility and this miracle.

But there is another side to this story.

The miracle of the incarnation is a moment of incredible power. It was a decisive event in the destiny of the universe, the turning point of history.

When Christ emptied Himself of His divine power and knowledge He performed a deed of breathtaking heroism. His submission in the incarnation was a heroic act of faith, and a dramatic step   in the war in heaven.

The Apostle John was given a vision of what was happening on a cosmic level in the birth of Jesus. He records his vision in the 12th chapter of Revelation. John saw Satan, the enemy of God and of man, trying to prevent the birth of the Christ child and to destroy him, but God preserved the baby's life and Satan was defeated. Notice that he was defeated at the birth of the child.

The birth of Jesus was a military victory in the battle between good and evil.

Is it any wonder that when the angels ambushed those unsuspecting shepherds that they were armed for battle. Luke describes the shepherds as being scared by the appearance of one angel, but imagine their terror when the sky is opened and they were suddenly confronted by a contingent of the heavenly army. One messenger angel was terrifying, I can't imagine the fear inspired by an angelic war host.

The Christmas story is not just about a humble carpenter and his virgin bride in a stable in Bethlehem. There is much more going on there than the simple surroundings would indicate.  This is a momentous occasion of great cosmic importance. The armies of heaven were literally present in Bethlehem that night. Only the shepherds got to see them, but they were there.

The lonely couple far from home, giving birth to this little baby, and laying him in a feeding trough were playing their part in one of the most powerful and pivotal moments of all time.

I wonder what is going on right now? What is God doing around us and through us if we could only see it?

Ambushed Again!

On Friday I was skyping with some friends. As we often do, we ended the call by praying for each other. One of the things they prayed for me was that God would fill me up for the up coming week of intense ministry by meeting me in worship. In the last few days, this prayer has been answered many times over, the most recent one was this morning, when God ambushed me again!

Perhaps that needs a little explaining...

When I was a kid, we took great delight on hiding in the house and jumping out at unsuspecting loved ones. Often, particularly with my dad, these childish ambushes were followed with tickles and fun. At any moment, your day could be interrupted by a loving ambush. When you least expected it, someone would jump out at you and you would be thrown into chaos for a moment as your adrenalin kicked in. The intensity of emotion heightening the connection with someone you were not looking for.

One of the really fun things for me in the last few years, has been the way God sneaks up behind me and taps me on the shoulder when I'm not looking. Sometimes it feels really playful, as if He was hiding behind the door with a sly smile on His face, listening to my approaching footsteps, anticipating the look on my face when He jumps out. Other times it is more sedate and deep like suddenly discovering an old friend sitting in your living room and inviting you to sit down and catch up. Still other times, the ambushes are more severe, like suddenly being caught in the act, suddenly knowing that you are caught, guilty, and there is no wiggling out of it.

One of the great joys of my life has been learning what it means to live in what Dallas Willard calls "a God bathed world". The fact is that our world is filled with God. He is available to us every moment. He is actually present everywhere at every moment but we can live our whole lives without being aware of Him. Cultivating sensitivity to Him and creating space in my life to respond to Him takes discipline and intentionality, but it is well worth it. He reveals Himself to those who seek Him.

This morning, He ambushed me as my wife was reading from "Jesus Calling". I'm not really a devotional reader kind of guy, but God totally ambushed me this morning! I am preparing to travel to Asia for a week of intense ministry. I went to bed last night trying to anticipate all that the week would hold and even playing through potential conversations in my head. This mornings reading opened with this line, "Trust me enough to let things happen without striving to predict or control them." I didn't really hear the rest of the reading.

I felt like God had just tapped me on the shoulder. My mind flooded with all the ways I had tried to do exactly that. I was suddenly deliciously aware of His presence and the absurdity of my façade of control, my desire to accurately anticipate the future. Instead, He reminded me that I can and should relax into His presence. I can be present in every moment and be anticipating Him, listening for His approaching footsteps.

I am eager to see what He has in store for me this week. I am eager to live with Him, to walk with Him. With an almost childlike giggling fear, I'm peering around each corner wondering when He will ambush me again.

Swimming and Gliding

With just a flick of his tail he glides so effortlessly through the water! A huge carp lazily swims around in a pool on the edge of our town. He moves with such grace and ease as he weaves through the plants and among the swarm of other fish.  He is clearly in his element, comfortable and confident.

As I watch I feel a tug from deep in my soul, a memory climbing toward my conciousness. The Spirit nudging me toward Him. "In Him we live and move and have our being." As I walk this earth I am in Him. I am right now surround by and lifted up by Him. He is genuinely present with me at all times. When I wave my hand through empty space, I am waving it through and in God. God is ever present and ever personal.

This God who is beyond my understanding, this God who created stars and galaxies, this God who penetrates every fibre of my being, every place in the universe and beyond, makes Himself personally available to me. He speaks to me. He works all things out for my good. He is working in and around me at all times, writing the story of my life, of all our lives.

I forget. I live as if I am on my own. I live as if it all depends on me, as if I am alone and vulnerable to the whims of impersonal fate or the chaos of human action. But this is unreality. The reality is that I am surrounded  and cared for by the most powerful and loving Being in existence. He loves me and has demonstrated this love in sacrificial and enormously costly action. I know His love and care from history and from my own life. But still I forget.

I thrash around trying to stay afloat, afraid of drowning in the threatening world around me; when I could relax into His love. I could glide along in His Spirit in the beauty of this world and the knowledge of His care. The circumstances remain the same, but as I stand next to the pool my perception has subtly shifted and the peace that surpasses all understanding comes to me. I am aware of Him and it is good.

Being Present

What could be easier than to be exactly where we are? It seems so elementary, and yet I am finding this to be an incredible challenge! I am discovering how rarely I am truly present in the now, in the moment.

I tend to spend so much of my time in the past or the future. I am generally a post-worrier. I don't worry much about the future, but I can spend a lot of time replaying things and worrying about the past. On the other hand, I can also spend a lot of time thinking about the future, trying to predict what will happen if... Or trying to control the outcome of things that haven't even happened yet.

This morning, I took some time to just sit and be present. I wanted to be present to the Lord, but the starting point was just to be present to myself. I had to sit still and just notice the things that I was feeling, the thoughts racing through my head, the motivations of my heart. I had to quiet myself and then present these things to Him in the quietness of that moment.

I wrote down the things that were troubling me. I wrote down my worries and my fears. I wrote down the things I was dreaming about and the future I was striving to create for myself. Then, I sat in silence.

A few minutes later the real dialogue began as a felt His response welling up with in me. I wrote down the words that I attached to these impressions: "Relax. Enter in. I am here. Stay in the now. It's okay. Come away with me. Take it one step at a time. Don't try to predict or control the future, that's my job."

As I sat, I compared the two lists, and suddenly the things that had seemed so overwhelming didn't overwhelm quite as much. I still was facing the same things, but the facts were emptied of the fear that had made them so fearsome. Instead, I felt peaceful. I recognized that I would still need to do something, but I knew, experientially knew, that my Father was in them with me. His presence made all the difference.

Awakening to an Invitation

I woke up early this morning.  As I lay there in bed trying to get back to sleep, I felt something.  At first it was just a sort of vague curiosity.  A sort of wondering feeling.  It was so subtle that I only became aware of it as it begin to coalesce into a longing, a longing still quite vague.  There was no distinct object of my longing, my desire.  Then it morphed again from a longing to an invitation.  That was when I began to awake to the source of the longing and the invitation.  God was at it again.

I got up and headed downstairs with my journal and Bible in hand.  I knew that I was hungry for God, that the hunger was from God.  I knew that I wanted to meet with Him.  As I opened my journal I saw that it had been many days since my last entry.  I silently repented of my neglect of this, my most important relationship.  It's not that I had not been praying, or even experiencing God in worship, contemplation, nature, or His children, but it had been weeks since I had taken the time to sit quietly with Him. 

In that moment I realized that I was in danger of talking more about God than with Him.  I was subtly sliding into a life about God but not with God.  As I sat on the couch I was desperate for His presence.  I sat quietly for a time and then began to write and pray.  I wrote about my heart and shared with Him my thoughts and invited His input.  I didn't feel anything except alone.  The quietness of the sleeping house broken only by the ticking of the clock. 

Gradually I began to be filled with memories and with gratitude.  I remembered how far He had carried me.  A growing wonder dawned on me as I realized anew the miracle of knowing Him.  I tried to remember why the sins of my youth had seemed like a good idea.  I praised Him for rescuing me and for healing the pain in my soul.  I needlessly apologized yet again for spending so many years fleeing from Him, the Lover of my Soul. 

Then I was filled by a desire to love.  I felt a deep desire to be an agent of His love, for others to be healed, for others to experience the fullness of joy, the abundance of life, that I have found.  I prayed for and wondered about those in my life.  How could I love them better?  How could I help them to find the blissful surrender to the Lover whose unrequited love for them never diminishes or fades.  Then I was moved again to wonder and to praise at the fact of His presence in my life and the love that He has lavished on me.

As I closed my journal and reached for my Bible, I wondered where to read.  I did not want to study the scriptures, I wanted to meet with my lover, the one who speaks through them.  As the Book fell open on my lap my eyes fell upon Isaiah 35.  From the first verse I knew that this too was a gift from my Lover, my Father, my Brother.  He spoke to me through the passage about redemption and healing. 

He met with me.  He loves me still.  He speaks to me still in the silence and in the scriptures.  He awakens me.  He woos me.  He draws me to Him again and again.

Spiritual Retreat

I just got back from a 48 hour spiritual retreat. I have been trying to schedule these personal, generally silent, retreats for several years now. I find it really hard to carve out the time to do them, but I'm never sorry when I do. This retreat was no exception.

For this retreat, my wife and I went together, but decided not to talk with each other for the first 24 hours and then limited our conversation to what we were hearing and learning. Soon after I arrived I found myself simply enjoying the silence and the beauty of the rose garden. Then I noticed a rabbit sitting among the roses staring back at me. I don't know how long he had been sitting there, or how long I had been staring at him before I noticed him. I was immediately struck by the immediacy of God and the fact that every moment of every day is pregnant with the possibility of meeting with God. My problem is that I rarely slow down enough to be attentive. This was to be the theme for the retreat, as again and again, God popped up as I sat in silence, walked the grounds, read scripture, read good books, and spent time in prayer and contemplation.

I spent most of the weekend camped in Mark 10. I was drawn to it a few weeks prior when the phrase "What do you want me to do for you?" jumped of the page and became a very personal question. Jesus asks the question twice in the passage, once to James and John (who selfishly ask for glory) and once of blind Bartimaeus (who asks to see). I was struck by the parallels of the question and the divergence of response. Then, I had to answer the question. What is it that I want God to do for me? Not theoretically, but actually. The Lord of the Universe is actually present, standing before me always asking this question and waiting to give me everything that is really good for me.

This is the problem. God is not a vending machine, He is a good Father. He is not manipulated or controlled by us. He is wild and free...and good. He doesn't appear to me when I demand, but He is never distant. He denies James and John's request to sit at His right and His left, but He grants sight to the blind man. He is constantly available and is longing for the dialogue. The dialogue is the purist expression of faith. Even when He says "no" the beauty is that we can hear His voice. We can learn to speak His language and to hear His voice more readily if we will but take the time to be attentive and to believe that He wants to communicate with us.