The Presence of God

On most days I wake up, I walk outside, and I sit across from a statue of Jesus washing Peter’s feet. In the beginning I used to sit here because it brought me comfort that Jesus understood sacrifice more than I, sacrifice I feel has often plagued my life. Turns out that this beginning was a journey to a revelation of my own inner pride.

You see the statue was never intended for me to only identify with Jesus, rather to identify with Peter as well. A man unwilling but then desperate for the cleansing that could only be provided by his Savior (John 13:5-20).

I have often perceived that God needed something from me. That He needed me to be kind, needed me to be helpful, needed me to be submissive. Needed every ounce of strength left within my small fragile bones. It was the message of perfection that rang on repeat inside my mind, and often is the first thought that even now, still comes to mind.

The honest truth is that He has never needed anything from me, He only desires my want and obedience for His love woven commands. Commands that always leave us with a choice to say yes or a choice to say no. He isn’t manipulative, condescending, shaming, or wavering. Rather, He is a God of Integrity, a God who lavishes honor, a God who exhorts our greatest qualities and heals our least attractive wounds, a God who wants nothing from us. Only a yes to receiving the love He always desired to pour out. A love I still can’t quite grasp.

Today, I felt a buzzing among my heart, a buzz that stirred my heart to anger. Attempting to sit in the presence of my God I found that I couldn’t quite settle into His peace. I felt resistant. Struggling to perfect my posture, I wrote out the reminders of the goodness of my God, but the truth was I couldn’t feel it or believe it. Very softly inside my mind I heard “You’re angry with me”, as a single tear fell to graze my cheek. Filled with shame I worked to justify why that was the wrong posture to present to God. I worked to make myself believe what I knew to be true, and the more I fought it, the further I shifted away from the one I love.

Determined in mind I said “I won’t leave until I feel your peace.” Knowing I don't deserve it, yet trusting His word promises that to me. And for the first time, I meant it and I didn’t leave, kind of my Jacob moment (Genesis 32).

Then again gently, almost barely understandable, I heard “You’re angry with me, tell me why. I am big enough to handle it.” Shamefully, I broke down in tears listing the multitude of things that brought my heart to anger before the Lord. I was angry to be made a promise that God hasn't fulfilled, I was angry that He called me to wait on something I fear I might never see. I was angry He made me look crazy for trusting an impossible dream. And as I wrestled in my honesty, I finally came to the place He always wanted me to be.

The truth was I wasn't really angry at the dream or the promise, but more than anything I was angry that I couldn't fully be with Him.

Then I found myself becoming frustrated and angry that He asks me to live in a world with so much pain, and so much void. I know that the deepest satisfaction to my soul would be to sit in His arms grasped by the holiness of heaven. Yet I must remain, and I often still am angry to struggle with the tension of my flesh. I’m angry to gain wisdom and see the further brokenness of my flesh, and the world of flesh. I’m angry that He could make it all go away, and yet He chose to ask me to stay.

Then upon this confession there I sank deeply and freely into the peace of a Father who promises to never leave me or forsake me.

The Presence of God.