Man, our culture has such a complicated relationship with God. There's all this commentary on what he is and what he isn't, what he stands for and what he doesn't. People use him, either as a defense or an offense, standing on his shoulders to shout or kicking at him in rage.
I'd love to lure you away from that for a while. To walk with you right up to his front door so that you can sit with him, away from the clamoring of social media posts and people holding signs and this nagging, burning feeling that we are obsolete and weak if we don't also join the melee. It's hard to think with all that noise. It's hard to feel the love.
When you get to his house, he'll be smiling and holding his arms open. He'll have been waiting for you. You might feel awkward and strange, because you've kicked at him, too, with rage in your heart and spit flying, but you'll find that as you walk through the doorway, somehow he's smiling at you and ushering you over to the couch, patting the seat beside him.
The thing about God is that he's not a social media post. He's not narrow as a meme and he's not contained by headlines. He's not dictated by our feelings, our nation's decisions, or the distance we've wandered from him. He's certainly not unfeeling, or insensitive, or spiteful, or out of touch.
Most of all, God is not boring. As you talk with him, or sit in silence sipping coffee together, or cry with your head in his lap, you will find that his presence is dynamic. That it's fascinating, the way that he knows you so intimately, and can both hold your aching heart and hands and speak truth in a way that makes you feel restored. He'll offer you clarity; you'll feel the chaos diffuse in your mind and it will empty out of you from your fingertips and toes. The warmth you feel? It's his love. It's been there all along, but now that you're sitting with him, away from the brouhaha, you can notice it, accept it, embrace him back.
When you've finished your last drop of coffee, you'll cling to your mug anyway, not wanting to put it down quite yet. When you've cried your last tear, you'll maybe want to just close your eyes and rest a while next to God. From this peaceful place, it can be hard to get up and go back into the world. But you can come back anytime. You'll never overstay your welcome.
As you walk back outside, you might find that the turbulence that was tossing you around before has smoothed out. Though the masses scream and the gas prices climb and the economy teeters, now you can notice love all around. You feel it in you, you feel it for others, you feel that it's going to be okay because you've spent time with the Author of this story. You've shared whispers, and you know that he's got a plan to resolve it all. Your rage melts. Your anxiety softens. You feel creative and renewed and alive.
This - this is the difference between commentating on God and communing with God. It's the difference between fighting and peace, rage and love, commotion and tranquility. When we lean into the thrill and relief that God wants to spend time with us, he will greet us with the most enchanting bouquet of love and surprises we could ever imagine. And in his presence, we'll know that no commentary could ever quite encapsulate all that he is.