When I was younger, I had a dream that I met with the Lord in a forest of birches. We sat on a bench and talked, and I was filled with the most expansive peace.
For a long time after having that dream, whenever I would pray or pause to be in His presence, I pictured meeting Him in that grove.
It's been a long time since I thought of it, but the other morning when I woke up, it was on my mind. I paused to pray for the day, but for the life of me, I could not picture the forest, the bench, the green canopy of leaves. There was just - nothing.
No imaginary chapel in the birches, and no Jesus.
"Where did you go?" I asked, "Why can't I find you?"
But there was just silence.
The kids began to stir and I was catapulted into my day, ready or not.
I can't remember what happened - I was in the kitchen, and probably listening to music or maybe a podcast - and something made my heart soar upward. And suddenly I was very aware of Jesus' presence, He was right there - right in my busy morning, in my unfinished kitchen, with spiderwebs in the corners of the ceiling.
Immanuel. God with us.
Not God with us in church.
Not God with us in our quietest moments.
Not God with us in our best clothes.
Not God with us when we Stop To Pray.
God with us.
"I am with you always," He said. No birches required.
Merry Christmas, friends.
xo
No comments:
Post a Comment