His Presence

Sometimes a church building can be a creepy place at night. Whatever the reason I’m here, being in the building late, alone just gives me shivers. Otherwise bright and cheerful classrooms become vast, dark voids. Crowded, happy hallways become long black corridors. And an auditorium that is usually full of smiling faces and laughter transforms into a collage of shadows and disconcerting creeks. I know that there is no one else in the building, but walking down the hall and out the door to the parking lot, I can’t help but conjure up horror movie images of something lurking in the shadows behind me. And I shiver with the thought that there is someone else here with me. Which is a silly thought because we have locks and cameras and our building is sandwiched between a police station and a busy hospital. But you just get that feeling sometimes.

I had a meeting with a parent recently. Nothing serious, just light conversation. But when we parted ways they made a comment that gave me the shivers. She said that her kid is “getting it,” that it’s sinking in, and the Spirit of God is on the move in their life. And as I stood in the hallway outside of my office, now alone in the building, I shivered. I wasn’t cold or creeped out, but for a single astonishing moment of clarity I was afraid. Afraid like all the folks in the Bible are afraid. And in part afraid for the same reason I’m afraid when I’m in the building all alone at night, because I knew there was someone else here with me. Not because of the building I was standing in, but because I let my guard down for a minute, turned off the security cameras and unlocked the doors and allowed God to move without my manipulations or restraints. And a God that moves unbridled is a scary thought. And you shiver.

But it’s a good scared, like when you just get off a roller coaster. It was fast, a rush, uncertain, but had an overwhelming presence of safety and control. Isn’t that what we’re longing for in our faith? A faith and a God that exhilarates us and maybe even scares us? I Kings 19 tells us a story of God appearing to the prophet Elijah in a time of great stress and anxiety for the messenger. And as Elijah is waiting for God a great wind, then an earthquake, and then a fire comes that shakes the mountains around him. And then a “gentle whisper,” passes by and in its presence Elijah knows that there is someone else there with him.

When was the last time God moved in your life like a whisper or a vapor? Not in some big, monumental, extravaganza of mass-marketed Christianity, but in a manner that was so subtle, so slight, and yet ever so real that it broke you? When was the last time you were alone but knew that there was someone else there with you? Many of us have a day-to-day life that is structured, scheduled, routine, and predictable. And you can have a God that is that same way, predictable, safe, routine. Which is appealing because then he’s is convenient, easy, and comprehensible. But do you want or, even more, need a God that is a mystery, exciting, and alive and brings you to life?

Father, in the presence of your bigness, mysteriousness, and reality sometimes we minimize you into a God that we can grasp, control, own, and consume. Forgive us for our disrespect. May we be a people that anticipates your moving in our life. May we look forward to it, excited by the life you breath into us. God, make our hairs stand on end. Make our hearts race in the midst of your “gentle whisper.” Make us aware when there is someone else here with us. Humble us with the knowledge that you are a mystery and are uncontainable and unpredictable. And make us a people that become alive when you are in our company.

Chris Palmer
Stephenville, Texas