Every so often I get a
question like this:
“You
article called “What is a Christian?” describes our relationship with God as a
“heart-to-heart relationship with the living God.” I’ve been a Christian since I was 9 (I’m 43
now), but I’ve never experienced anything with God that I would call
heart-to-heart. God seems about as
personal as gravity, which is obviously a powerful influences in our lives, but
not exactly something with which one can have a heart-to-heart relationship. …
I’m familiar with many of the arguments for the Christian faith, but it’s hard
to continue believing in God when he never seems to be “there.” It’s like I’ve read a lot of books on rain,
but every time I look out the window the sun is always shining.”
And the question always
seems to come in during some kind of trial in my life (generally a small-scale
one, the kind not big enough to feel ‘persecuted’ for, but just big enough to
make me feel ‘in an abnormal time’).
The way I remember the
timing about this comes from the list of my ‘answers’ or suggestions: the fifth
one on the list (in order of my jotting them down—not the order discussed below)
is the one I am typically ‘employing’ during the trials. That is, the use of a
whining/worrylist.
But before I get into the
things I do/approaches I take to dealing with ‘dry spells’ or a sense of
distance between God and I, let me do a little level-setting on expectations.
[I am not going to ask the
obvious, first-order, due-diligence questions which should always be asked
before diving into this kind of a question, because I am assuming that you
have already done the honest self-evaluation and history-assessment
prerequisites: like ‘have you ever experienced answered prayer?’, ‘if you don’t
have any evidence for God’s existence, then why are you still calling yourself
a believer?’, ‘have you studied the historical arguments for the gospel
histories, to the point that THEY can be considered evidence?’, etc. So, I am
going to assume you have already determined that you really are a New Testament
Christian/believer, and that you have already identified/rectified any
your-side barriers to a relationship with God. Obviously, if the process
derails at these earlier points, then my suggestions are going to be useless,
and you would need to start from a different space.]
First, I want to try to
differentiate my understanding of ‘heart-to-heart’ from emotional experiences
of God.
The ‘my’ part of the
heart-to-heart is simply me being verbal about my heart with God. That’s
essentially what we include in the odd word ‘prayer’, but for me it’s much
bigger than cultural stereotypes of ‘closed eyes, quiet voice, folded hands,
facing downward’ prayer. For me it is presenting my case to God aloud, looking
upward (although I know that is more for me, than for Him…), doing my
self-analysis ‘in front of’ God—asking for guidance in my analysis, and
articulating my every feeling, doubt, thought—like I might to a good Therapist…
The ‘God’ part of heart-to-heart
is me learning from scripture, from reflected-on-experience, from
others, and from conscience what is in God’s heart. I am convinced that
He discloses His Heart
(i.e. what pleases Him, what grieves Him, how He prioritizes
between the many different things that please Him, etc) progressively,
as we respond to His disclosures to us. Of course, I do think most (if not all)
of this is contained in His written Word, but after almost 40 years of reading
it daily I am still surprised by what I ‘just now noticed in there!’ on a daily
basis. Theologically, we call that the ‘illumination ministry of the indwelling
Holy Spirit’ (smile), but it still
amounts to the same—God unveiling His message in the Word to us, as we move
closer to Him in our intentions.
The emotional content of
this varies. When I am pouring my heart out before God, I feel pain—not ‘joy in
His presence’—but I DO sense His ‘attention’. I don’t sense any action on His
part—other than listening and perhaps solidarity in some cases—but I seem to be
aware of His ‘there-ness’ . [It’s a little like the
perception/awareness of somebody else in your house, when they are in another
room. There is no direct perception of them, but you are ‘aware’ that they are
there and can hear you.]
When I get a new insight
about God’s heart during bible reading in the morning (or anytime for that
matter), I am often pleased and/or warmed in my heart. I thank my Lord for
sharing that insight with me, and I think about it a minute or two and then
continue reading. No real ‘numinous experience’ there, but just a mild, quiet
‘touch of blessing’ (some quiet joy, some ‘eureka’, some peace—but nothing
significantly ‘bigger’ than what I might experience with another close friend
who has shared something intimate with me). It is ‘bigger’ because of the
Person sharing with me, obviously, but the nature/quality of the experience is
still that of personal disclosure, in the context of interpersonal trust.
What this means is that the
heart-to-heart relationship aspect is more interpersonal than it is ‘sensory’ (?).
It is about personal disclosure of ‘hearts’, not the actual ‘feeling’ of
someone else’s heart. But this brings me to the second part of the
level-setting: the occasional experiences of ‘touch’.
So, secondly, I want to point
out that relationships do have emotional aspects, often
independently of the quantity/quality of the interactions/disclosures. For
example, a man might be mad at his brother for 40 years—never speaking—and the
emotional content of that ‘non-interacting relationship’ would be very, very
powerful. There are people mad at God who have never
even addressed Him with a grievance. There are people who swoon in affection
over pop idols, without ever having ‘touched’ them.
I can have an emotional
touch (painful or pleasurable) by simply remembering old friends, old
events, and old words. I have experienced personally the ability of humans to
grow powerful emotive attachments to people they have never seen, and have only
corresponded with 2-3 times per year for a couple of years [I experience this
with my Compassion Kids regularly, although they have no ‘practical way’ to
influence my daily life.]
But there are flashes of
emotive touch that occur in (some) relationships, and there are flashes of
‘presence’ that occur in (some) relationships. They are ‘flashes’, because
relationships are not characterized by ‘uninterrupted experience of intense
emotions’ but more by a weaving of interaction, influence, distance, nearness,
immediacy, reflection, sensing, remembering, imaging and re-imaging, time-delay
communication, etc. And I certainly do believe that God ‘touches’ us at times
in our perceptive life (apart from the cognitive conviction that He is present
with us, attentive to us, and sharing our experiences with us all the time).
Before I get on to the
concrete things I do to open myself up to those touches, let me also
point out that the life of the believer is supposed to emotionally robust, yet varied.
The fruit of the Spirit (Gal 5.22-23)—although more focused
on character traits than emotions—nonetheless has an emotional dimension.
“Goodness” and “self-control” might seem emotionally neutral, but ‘joy’ and
‘peace’ probably have an emotive/experiential aspect.
But the follower of the Lord
can also experience anxiety, fear, pain, grief, etc. I wrote elsewhere on the
Tank, from the experiences of Paul and Timothy:
“The
Christian life is NOT some emotional froth or insensate tranquility,
undisturbed by agonizing challenges, mind numbing trauma/grief, uncertainties
of many stripes/colors...I think of the author of "The fruit of the Spirit
is love, joy, peace" (Gal 5) who could also describe his moments of abject
despair, paralyzing anxiety, abandonment by friends and comrades, disobedience
to God at 'open doors', etc...and of the recipient of Timothy--the 'only one'
Paul could recommend as free of self-interest--as troubled by fear and timidity
and fear of rejection...or even of our Jesus--betrayal, loneliness, disgrace,
agony of heart, being 'troubled of spirit'...a Man of Sorrows...”
At some level, our Christian
life is supposed to be a ‘normal’ human (in the original sense of pre-Fall
humanity) life, with all the variations in intensity that a normal human life
might have now. There are times of intense trauma, spikes of ecstatic
joy, and periods of flatness—but most of it is simply ‘rich-while-ordinary’.
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob were called ‘servants of the LORD’, but they spent
the vast majority of their lives in simple agriculture and animal husbandry
tasks. David and Moses (and the prophets) would have had lives characterized by
exceptional experiences of God, but the simple ‘faithful of the Land’ in the
times of Isaiah or Jeremiah would have had religious lives characterized by
less vividness, yet deep conviction of God’s oversight and providence. They
would not have seen the miracles and portents of the generation of Moses, but
they knew God from the audit trail of His work in creating the nation of
The experience of a “lay”
New Testament believer might be very similar, although the presence of the
indwelling Holy Spirit provides a much, much greater opportunity to experience
God’s ‘inner life’. But this treasure of possibility is something that has to
be cultivated and developed through interaction, and is not something that grows
without deliberate attention.
So we (finally) come to the
suggestions—of how I devote ‘deliberate attention’ to growing my experience of
God. (Remembering, of course, that my goal is NOT emotion per se, but greater
personal/intimate knowledge of God’s heart and ways!)
So, here’s
the things I personally use for dealing with ‘dry spells’ or ‘waste-land’
periods:
First is what I just mentioned:
the whining/worrylist, and it comes in two parts.
The whining part is
just that—a time when I pace around the house (alone, obviously) and ‘whine’
out loud to my Lord about feeling dry, distant, lifeless, dead, stagnant, fruitless,
lost, drifting, etc. I just pour out my (dry) heart and worries and complaints
about my current emotional experience. I have ‘emotionally vivid’ times in the past
to compare to the current experience, though, so I do know ‘what
I am missing’ (in the way of experience) and I ask (over and over) “what’s
wrong?!”. I explore (always out loud to God as my
conversation partner) all the possible reasons for this dryness. I raise the
issues of sin (dredging up all possible ‘guilt-tinged’ habits/actions/inactions
du jour), imbalance (physical and/or mental), testing of perseverance
(e.g., do I require immediate visceral feedback to stay on track—a walking by
sight, instead of by faith?), testing of motives (i.e. do I walk with Him only
because it feels ‘alive’), sickness (i.e., I normally don’t feel very spiritual
when I am on Nyquil), bio-chemical depression from a binge work-project, etc.
I typically don’t get a
clear answer to this extended exploration and analysis (and I often weep with
frustration and/or discouragement over my temporary spiritual lostness and my sense of helplessness to ‘do anything’
about it), but after pouring my heart and doubts and confusion and anxiety out to
my good-hearted Lord for 30-60 minutes, I am certainly more aware of His
presence in my life/experience. [And, I typically have uncovered some useful
‘mid-course corrections’…sigh/smile]
A variant of this—used for
helping cut through the ‘drag’ created by anxiety—is the worry
list. This is just a simple sheet of paper on which I make two columns: one
labeled ‘my worries’ and the other labeled ‘His response’. And I put
EVERYTHING—however ‘small’ on my worry-column. I even put things I might
consider selfish on it. But ‘dryness’ is always on the top of the list.
I generally have 40-60 items
on this list, including individual work projects (if I have some anxiety about
them, of course), health, retirement$, relationships with family, local
projects, individual Tank pieces, and a whole HOST of ‘vague issues’ (e.g.,
balance, priorities, openness, personal theology, legalism versus license, use
of money, etc), in which there might not be a specific issue of the moment, but
just the expression of my omnipresent self-doubt and self-vilification.
But, again, as I build this
list I am (out loud, or silently in my heart if I am on an airplane) laying
them out before the Lord. Lifting them up, expressing my very real dependence,
voicing my willingness to accept failure/defeat/embarrassment on each (if it is
His will—‘not my will, but Thine’—He never promised
me that my life would we worry-less! In fact, the opposite is true—He promised
me trials and persecutions and ‘surmountable difficulties’…smile) , and in some cases, I even list my embarrassment
at putting a ‘questionable’ item on the list
But I list them all—even
those that might be issues of personal vanity, self-approbation, personal
‘comfort’, etc—and I express that concern about them as I attempt to be
comprehensive (“Lord, this is possibly more selfish than saint-ish, but it is still something I worry about—for good or
ill”).
By the time I have examined
my life in front of the Lord—openly, honestly, and semi-exhaustively—I can
sense that He is ‘closer to center’ in my life/experience than when I started
the process. I have involved Him in more of the ‘real life’ issues of my heart
in this process, and that is one of the things He seeks for me—He is a Savior
and Shepherd, after all.
[Also, after all of this, I
still do that ritual thing I have mentioned often on the Tank. I fold the paper
and write 1 Peter 5.7 on it. But now I don’t tear the paper up (like I did
formerly), but I keep it and record the ‘His response’ column over time. This
is sort of like the “I/we ask, He answers” lists I did with my kids growing up,
and like I do NOW as a single adult. He has provided an ‘impressive audit
trail’ of resolving issues in my life (although many issues I WANT resolved have
not been dealt with yet—and many of those fall into the ‘Your will, not mine’
category—IMO).]
Ok, on to the second—my
FAV—and the most ‘dependable’ one (smile). Immersion in the
Word of God.
Over the decades, I have
learned how powerful the Word can be on our hearts. I have seen it drag me up
out of the mire over and over and over again, and it is something I can depend
on to manifest its ‘life and power’ whenever I let it.
Here’s what I do. In times
of wasteland/heart-drought/drifting-deadness, I sit down in quietness and read
a passage of scripture over and over and over until I am changed. I personally
go for the ‘Christologically densest” passages I know
of, some of the Pauline epistles and I Peter. I skip the passages which deal
with history/controversy, often, so my list typically includes: Gal 5-6; and
all of Eph,
What I do is to select 3-4
chapters from this range of scripture and read it over and over without
stopping, 10-20 times. Normally, I can ‘feel’ a difference within 5-6 times,
but I continue on. My mind wanders (especially if under anxiety) and I am
CONSTANTLY under distraction, but every repetition makes it easier to focus—as
the Word shares its life with my spirit. Never fails me. Sometimes takes 5
readings, sometimes 10, occasionally 20. But I try hard to not ‘study’
it. I avoid ‘looking things up’, consulting commentaries, or getting
sidetracked on background information ‘About’ those passages. [I do underline
and connect words, because these are functions of interacting with the text
itself.] Rather, I am trying to just drink from the fire hose of Living Water. In very distracting situations, I read it aloud
until I can focus better.
The important thing is to
not ‘objectify it’ via over-scrutiny, study, background information, etc. You
can underline and draw connections, but don’t ‘chart anything’. The point is to
approach it as a living voice, as—in the words of the forebears—one of the
‘means of grace’. God’s heart is in His word, in-shrined,
in-carnated, in-scripturated. It is the breath of God (‘inspiration’) that
gives our dust-body life (Gen 1-2), and the seed/stock from which our new
hearts grow (James 1.18; I Pet 1.23).
So, just saturate your
present with it—for about an hour or two—and the life of it will become increasingly
tangible and numinous.
For me, this has been the
major way I have kept alive all these years.
[Btw, I do these New
Testament passages for ‘dryness’, but I do the Psalms for times of intense
pain.]
Next/third is the use of
music. For me, a good Christian song
(if I am alone) can bypass most of my cognitive defense mechanisms and can
neutralize (temporarily) my pre-disposition to morbidity and pessimism. [In the
rare group setting I find myself in, it can even override the extreme
self-consciousness that normally stops me from enjoying communal worship of our
God.] I find that some songs can just reduce me to a formless mass of emotional
jello, weeping and worshipping, humbled and honest,
overwhelmed with His beauty and grace, re-perspectivized
back to the beautiful center of a life with God.
I have to sing along
with these for them to lift me up—just to listen won't work,
the transport/entanglement just isn’t there for me. It is when I step into the
stream of worship or praise or thanks or affirmation or righteous request (of a
fellow traveler?) that I am somehow aligned/confluent
with the movement of the Holy Spirit in that moment of dance-before-God.
For me, these songs can be
old Isaac Watts-type songs, or wild Celtic hymns, or contemporary in-your-face
Christian alternative rock. When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, Amazing Love, Great
is thy Faithfulness, All Hail the Power of Jesus Name (because of my seminary
years), A Mighty Fortress is our God, Are you Small Enough (Nicole Nordiman), a couple of songs from the Left Behind Album
(You are so Beautiful, I will hide myself in Jesus, Brians
Song), Fearless Love and Stage Set in Darkness/Love will find a Way (Rich Mullens) are some of the ones I use.
Again, get alone—with no one
watching—and listen with your eyes closed (or looking upward as you sing) and
heart focused on the moment. This works for me because the music is a very
powerful expression of common grace/creative initiative by God. Music seems to
affect us in sub-conscious ways (for good or ill). It can be an incident of
grace-in-tones, dancing through the air into our hearts.
In the case of hymns with
understandable lyrics, there are always parts of verses that stand out
in my experience, and these reach deeper into my heart (and I sing them a
little louder…smile).
But—unlike the scripture
reading—this I cannot do over and over, or it becomes
stale. It becomes more ‘memory work’ and performance than sharing.
Fourth is the Thanks list—the best means for regaining perspective and
re-centering my existential posture in the universe.
This is another ‘list’
(smile—recovering OCDer here—‘yeah, right—your
obvious brevity/conciseness is a clear witness of your recovery, Glenn’!). For
this list, you back up as far back—perspective-wise—as you can and write down
the things you are grateful for. It doesn’t matter how grateful you ‘feel’
(that will vary minute-by-minute, in this life…unfortunately), but rather whether
you consider the item to be something you SHOULD ‘feel grateful for’
(smile). This has to be an honest list—there have been many times when I could
list ‘forgiveness of sins’ and ‘my kids’ and yet could NOT list ‘my being alive
today’ or ‘my having been born to experience this life’. Make the list as
comprehensive as possible—from the depths of life to even the things which
might seem ‘petty’ from the perspective of eternity. I can thank God for my
education, and also thank him for an hour the day before when I got to listen
to good music. [In other words, my personal ‘rankings’ of these are from my
perspective, and my hour of music might be almost as important—in the grand
scheme of things—as my education. I can only work from my perspective,
and He appreciates (‘is patient with’?) my every attempt to express gratitude
for my perceived blessings.]
I do try to start with the
deeper of issues: my Cross-based acceptance by the God of the Universe; my being
placed by the saving work of Jesus into the life He desires for me to enjoy and
unfold in; my access to the written Word of God; the ‘embedding’ of His Spirit
within my mind/heart; the ability to perceive goodness and beauty; the
opportunities to help/share with others; my kids and family; some of His
treasured-trophies I have been graced to know in this life; my future with Him…
and it expands into matters of provision, aspects of my health which allow me
freedom to serve (not all aspects of health do this, of course), education,
job, etc… and on and on…
On most ‘good’ days, I can
even list some of my adversities and limitations—at least those I can honestly
attest to their contribution to my life. I can thank Him for limitations that
‘steer me’ toward ways of fruitfulness, and for fears that keep me from getting
involved in things which would overwhelm me. But I generally start the list
with the more ‘pleasant blessings’ (smile).
This approach is more
fundamental to life than I think we understand. I have always been ‘troubled’
by Romans 1.21, in which the first condemnation of the pagans includes that
they were not ‘thankful’. I have written elsewhere on this topic on the Tank,
but suffice it to summarize here that the social/interpersonal recognition of
beneficence is a value/virtue grounded ‘deeply’ in the Trinity, and is somehow
ontologically fundamental to our human/personal/social nature. This is NOT
something ‘reserved for God’—we are supposed to be expressing thanks to those
around us, and to God for those agents too. It is a fundamental impulse(?) of honesty, a non-peripheral part of a
truthful/holistic response to a goodness/value received from another/Another.
[But in this discussion, I
am focused ‘more practically/crassly’ on the disclosure/openness aspect of the act
of thanksgiving, than on its conformity to God’s ethical character.]
In my own practice, I
journal daily anyway, so I have a line item every day in which I mention the ‘day-centric
event-type’ blessings I experience each day. So, for example, here’s the list
for the last 5 days: “vast minutia done”, “morale high”, “so much
accomplished”, “safe travel”, “progress on Tank article”, “”got through my
presentation OK”, “feeling better”, “Nyquil working”, “Derek’s spirit”,
“progress on Tank article”, “mom moving better”.
I also build year-long lists
at Thanksgiving and New Years Eve (not at the detail of ‘Nyquil working’
though). But I will do a list when I feel ‘distance’ or ‘off-center’ in my
relationship with God (and sometimes in my relationship to others), and it will
help me in my perspective and in my experience of God’s involvement in my life.
Fifth is the use of
meditation on God’s goodness.
This approach is where I
take some aspect of God’s goodness and turn it over and over and over in my
mind, letting the idea/concept completely ‘fill/dominate my attention and
mind’.
I “accidentally” (hahaha) discovered this in seminary. In one of the Greek
classes, I was assigned Ephesians 3.14-19 to study and write up my exegesis.
The passage reads thus:
For this reason I bow my
knees before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth
derives its name, 16 that He would grant you, according to the riches of His
glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, 17 so
that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; and that you, being rooted
and grounded in love, 18 may be able to comprehend with all the saints what
is the breadth and length and height and depth, 19 and to know the love of
Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to all the
fullness of God. [NAS, emphasis
mine]
In these classes, one
typically spent 30-40 hours of analysis on each text, sifting through the
various meaning-possibilities for each case ending, each verb inflection, each
word order choice, etc. So we were really, really, really interacting up-close
with the text. In my study, as I started trying to understand Paul’s point
about the ‘immensity’ of Christ’s love, I ‘inadvertently’ thought about it ‘too
much’ (i.e, ‘unintentional meditation’… smile) and I stumbled
into an experience of the ‘fullness of God’. It was overwhelming in intensity,
terrifying in its power/depth, and unlike anything else I had experienced up to
that point in my short Christian life. Academics in sociology/psychology have
called these types of experiences ‘experiences of the numinous’ and the Latin
phrase was “mysterium tremendum
et fascinans” (e.g., Rudolph Otto, in The Idea of
the Holy).
I experience this sometimes
with the music experience too, and VERY often when in
a communal context. [Since many of the hymns I like are ‘meditations on the
goodness of God, enhanced by tasteful music’ (smile), I end up at the same
place: focusing my attention and response on some aspect of God’s goodness.]
Here’s some
description/discussion of this mysterium tremendum, and a Pauline corrective to the
‘life-threatening’ aspect:
“The
apprehension of the holy, the mysterium tremendum, is widely characterized by a sense of
“awfulness,” or fear combined with a sense of fascination and of
gracious intent. This “strange harmony of contrasts,”
which Otto sees as the most noteworthy phenomenon in the history of religions” Freedman,
D. N. (1996, c1992). The Anchor Bible Dictionary (6:509).
“In
terms of experience rather than thought, a popular attempt has been made more
recently to describe God in terms of the awe or reverence evoked by the sense
of the unknown. God is the numinous element, the mysterium
tremendum (R. Otto, Idea of the Holy [Engtr, 2nd ed 1958]), which is
not strictly definable, but which is sensed by all men, whether it be by
the religious man in his worship, the poet in his awareness and expression of
beauty, or the scientist impressed by the grandeur and complexity of the
cosmos.” Bromiley, G. W. (1988; 2002). The International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, Revised (2:493-494).
Wm. B. Eerdmans.
“In
this context the divine holiness can be characterized, in the terms offered by
Rudolf Otto, as mysterium tremendum et fascinans,
a fearful and captivating mystery: there is both dread and attraction, a
sense of encounter with an overwhelming presence that cannot and may not be
approached in a profane manner, but that nonetheless demands and expects
approach. Thus as Moses approached the divine presence indicated in the burning
bush, he removed his shoes in acknowledgement of the holiness of God and the
sacredness of the place of God (Ex. 3; 4f). Similarly the prophet Isaiah
experienced in his vision of God in the temple a sense of distance and
separation from the holy, together with a profound dread (Isa. 6:3–5).
Nonetheless the separation and the dread were both overcome — not by the desacralizing of the divine but by the purification and sanctification
of the human. In both these instances, in contrast to some of the implications
of Otto’s history-of-religions approach, the One encountered is not an
impersonal power but a personal divine being.” Bromiley,
G. W. (1988; 2002). The International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, Revised
(4:321). Wm. B. Eerdmans.
“Particularly
notable here is the thought of divine glory as a manifestation of power
(like the radiant energy of the sun), a thought equally rooted in the folk
memory of the fearful numinous power (mysterium
tremendum) of such theophanies
(Exod. 19:16–24; Num. 16:19–35; Isa. 6:4–5). In Paul this is understood as
beneficial power, transforming for the better (Rom. 6:4; 2 Cor. 3:18; the
parallel with Ephesians here is 3:16), though with double effect in 2 Thes. 1:9–10. Since transformation into heavenly splendor
(glory) is part of the hope for heaven (see also on 1:27 and
3:4), the prayer is in effect for that process to be forwarded
already here on earth (cf. 2 Cor. 4:16–5:5; see also 1:27; H. Hegermann, EDNT
1.346–47). That this train of thought is in mind here is confirmed by the
strong eschatological and realized eschatological note in the next two verses.”
Dunn, J. D. G. (1996). The Epistles to the Colossians and to Philemon : A commentary on the Greek text (74).
Frankly, this experience scared
me so bad that I don’t ‘go here’ very often [although they ‘hit’ me about twice
a year, without my intent, just because I reflect a lot on God’s unfathomable
goodness]. I prefer ‘milder’ experiences of God’s power. So, I meditate ‘just
long enough’ to ‘feel the approach’ of the power (e.g., it gets harder to
breathe), and then I back away. I
apologize to my Lord, but He knows my/our weakness of frame. When He came to
earth, He was gracious and gentle enough to clothe/cloak that explosive/vaporizing power in ordinary,
approachable, even huggable, flesh. Someday, I will be enough like Him (after
the
But my ‘close enough’
approaches in meditation are tangible/powerful enough for me—I can see what all
that ‘talk’ in the NT about the ‘power of God when He raised Christ from the
dead’ is about. And I have had a fresh ‘respect’ for that power since that
first experience.
But the suggestion here is
simply to do the ‘close enough’ version of this: meditate, memorize, reflect upon—for a long, isolated, uninterrupted period—on
some aspect of the goodness of God. Christ’s immense love has already been
mentioned as a subject, but you could explore some of the other ‘over the top’
self-disclosures of our God:
Just some starter ideas—but
you could do studies on words like ‘kindness’, ‘loyalty’, ‘graciousness’—and
all the words in those families… and have more than enough ‘goodness’ to lose
yourself in…
So, anyway, that’s my
‘practical’ list of suggestions.
These are not really
‘rituals’ or ‘manipulations’ to get God to do something He doesn’t want to
do(!!!), but rather things I do that God ‘humors me in’—so He can warm
my life with His good presence and light up my often-murky heart…
Hopefully, SOMETHING in this
will be of use to you, as you try afresh to open up more to God’s disclosure of
His heart to you, friend…
I realize this is SO WORDY,
but I didn’t know what all I needed to mention by way of context and
qualification (that first part)… blessings, friend—I suspect that God is
already at work in your situation—just because you sent the question in
and in so doing, took that next step toward Him… He is, after all, eager to draw
us closer to His warmth…
Glenn