The Parish

Awestruck

There are little moments throughout the week where I am struck by who God is.

Where one of His truths that I know about Him skip from “shallow understanding” to a “dunk in the deep end”. Well, at least what feels like a dunk for me (but is probably just a step further out from the shore. Give me a break here, I’m not the best swimmer, and you probably have these moments, too, if you’re honest with yourself for half a second.)

I have these moments where, instead of widening my knowledge of Him, Hedeepens it.

I had one of those moments today.

Have you ever been in a crowded place, headphones in, eyes glued to your phone screen, barely noticing the people around you?

Maybe that’s not one of your crutches. Maybe you notice people, even are polite to them as you check out at the grocery store (maybe you combine these two things, and say “thank you” in between trolling your twitter feed and scanning your email. A multi-tasker, eh? I get you.)

But have you ever just sat and watched?

I know I have some people-watching friends out there.

What are your motives behind this? Picking out things to chuckle about? Waiting for the opportunity to arise for the perfect Instagram photo? Or maybe you are just generally interested in people and you are three steps ahead of me. (Which is Ok—we all have our strengths. That’s why we are in community with each other.)

Just so you know, I’m guilty of all these things.

But today, I had a moment where God broke through all that crap.

Here’s the thing, though, here lately, I have been immersed in His word. No thanks to me, but thanks to my church, who thought it would be a great idea to read through the entire New Testament for the Lent season. (Maybe 46 days to read 27 books of the Bible does not phase you. Again, we all have our strengths. Great for you.)

But the thing is, I have found (and known, except that doesn’t necessarily change things), that when you’re drowning in the word—in a good way: drenched, immersed, consumed. Insert your favorite inclusive verb here—your perspective changes. It’s not rose-colored glasses. No, it’s more like seeing the puzzle done while you’re still working on it.

So, I’m at Starbucks (seemingly studying. Sorry, Ben. I promise this only took 15 minutes.), and this old couple walks in.

Guys, pause. I love old people. They make my heart melt. They have so much to offer, and I wish I could just drink it in. I want them to know that we value them, appreciate their lives, and what they have added through their hard work (because life is hard, and if you think anything different, you’re way better than me or not doing something quite right—but not hard in the sense that we can’t do it, but hard in a sense that you have to work.). And that I think they are blow-my-mind-amazing that they have made it through 65-plus years of heartache and happiness, child-rearing, loss, change, and happiness, not only in tact but with their heads held high.

Un-pause.

 So, this old couple walks in, and my heart melts a little bit. And fast forward, because I looked around the dining area, to everyone at their computer, reading their newspaper, doing their crossword, trolling twitter, young, old, red and yellow, black and white, and my heart melted a little bit for each one of them.

Why? Because God broke through the general murkiness of my spiritual life and spotlighted the fact that He loves and cares for each one of them, of us, so much.

There are so many stories around us, everyday. And the coolest part, the part that absolutely blows my mind, is that no matter the vast combination of the circumstances of a person’s life, the thing they are searching for is Christ.

There is so much to go along with that—evangelism, discipleship, community, bible reading, corporate worship.

But in that moment, God combined His mission for me with His ability—the fact that not only does He know the name of every person in this coffee shop, but that He knows the number of hairs on each of our heads, along with everyone else in this shopping center, driving down MacFarland Blvd, in Tuscaloosa, the South, this country, continent, this world.

And in that moment, I stood a little amazed at who He is, and what He is capable of. My view of Him was deepened.

So what? Well, I can tell you that just like anyone else in the history of man who has ever ran into God, be it at a fiery-but-not-on-fire-shrubbery, a road in the middle east, or a Starbucks, we are not good enough, strong enough, contain enough will power, to walk away from those moments unchanged.

So, I won’t.

I hold the not-so-secret solution to the lives of the hurting, confused, frustrated, and the I-am-absolutely-alright-I-don’t-need-anythings.

He has come to bind up the broken hearted, set the captive free. And I will be a part of it.

And whether it takes place in Starbucks or the Sudan, it will be big and it will be grand.

Because He just can’t help Himself. It’s who He is. And He showed me a small part of that today.