As I sit waiting upon God, I wonder if He sees me as a reporter: Pen poised over paper, anticipating His next word, waiting for Him to breathe or move or do anything recognizably divine . . . so that I might complete my written account and submit my work for all to see.
Does God feel used as one who merely lends credibility or interest to my writing? Does He feel like an angle for my story? Does He empathize with the celebrity who has become a commodity that is shuffled about to endorse with name and face one event after another?
These were my thoughts after two silence and solitude sessions for Creative Stretch #4: The Riches of Silence and Solitude.
The first session was certainly quiet; so quiet, in fact, I fell asleep. I once heard Brennan Manning describe the warmth and sweetness of a child becoming so relaxed in his arms that sleep soon came—the body went completely limp in utter trust and rest. Manning then compared this to our seeking of God for comfort and rest—certainly God is pleased when His children come to be near and then lean back against Him, only to succumb to sleep in the same manner as a small child. This reminds me of what Jesus said, as recorded in Matthew’s gospel (18:2–4): “And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, and said, ‘Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.'” With this filter in place, I no longer feel guilt when sleep finds me as I am communing with the Lord.
The second session was equally quiet, but I wasn’t sleepy. I set my eyes upon the scene outside my window, amazed at how quickly fall had given way to winter. The red leaves of the sand cherry were now scarce. Nubby branches of the magnolia juxtapose against a periwinkle sky giving way to dusk. I jot a few thoughts, then look back to the window. Only a few moments were needed for night to roll over the sky. I consider the possibility that night was not the cause of darkness: someone has painted my windows black. The darkness ushered in the final hush of the day.
Once again I turned my thoughts back to God, wondering how He feels to be spoken of so often by so many. I bet He is quoted more than any other celebrity, any other person. Does He loathe how those comments are mishandled or taken out of context or completely concocted? Are those accounts real or nothing more than the gossip pages I scoff about at the grocery checkout counter?
Perhaps God would rather withhold His comments to this amateur reporter until the words are taken in context, from Friend-to-friend (and off the record)—rather than Witness-to-reporter?
Read Other Creative Stretch #4 Posts
What did you find in the silence and solitude? Share it in the comments or leave a link to your post and I’ll add it here.
Watch for the next Creative Stretch—coming soon!