I think I've made God too small.
In my defense, how can I begin to understand what He is? How can I begin to grasp a God who listens to the cries of adoration from grains of sand? He makes the wind sigh in security . . . how can I actually perceive that?
I am below the bottom. I am unable to look toward God with my eyes jammed shut and my fists clinched over my lids. I know this. I accept this. To imagine living within the span of His residence? To actually conceive of climbing on His lap, burying my face in His shoulder?
and then . . .
then I do "accept it". Take it for granted. Flippantly profess the power that is the God.
How can You stand me?
I see nothing. You, my God, are too far above. Too far to touch, but close enough to save.
1 comment:
Long ago, in a Tulsa Workshop far, far away, Jeff Walling talking about daring to Dance with God. He talked about a little child (James, perhaps) running to the Father and reaching with both arms straight up. The Father takes him, lovingly, in those arms, and the child feels the unconditional love.
Ever since he painted that picture in my mind, I know more clearly that I am that child, and my Father is just waiting for me to reach up. I don't have to understand anything, just put up my arms for Him to take me into His embrace.
Post a Comment