On Knowing Him

Long before Pete and I meant anything to each other, he overheard a conversation between several people who were discussing my morning chapel solo. The jist of the discussion centered on their disagreement that anyone could have the intimacy with God of which I had spoken before (and in) my song. (The conversation sparked Pete's interest in getting to know me better - he wanted to know me if I wanted God.) Those words that he overheard have come to me over and over, the seeds of doubt planted in my heart to question whether God actually wants relationship with His people.

Now they are in sync with questions of my own. I know that He wants relationship - but how *much* does He want it? He is God. He is complete without me, and does not need me. I believe that His glory (the revelation of Himself for all to see) is His first priority (if God needs priorities as we do!).

Yet there is this voice inside me that asks, "Can I mean something to You, God?" I want to be romanced. I want to be in relationship. I want to be swept off my feet. I want to abandon myself, my heart, and my whole life in a passion that consumes me like fire. I want to hope that on the other side of the doubt, pain, and uncertainty is a happy ending.

This is my heart for Him, I know it. He is somehow the fulfillment of these desires.

But there is another side of me that says, "You don't mean anything to Him - He's fine without you. Relationship with the God of the universe is impossible. He does what He will, and His idea of a happy ending is not yours. Hold onto what you can get because He will take it eventually. Get your happiness here, while you can. Passion will kill you. Don't think about the pain. You can't care because He won't fix it anyway."

I'm staring at what I just wrote.

I have no answer for that voice outside of good, spiritual Sunday School answers that remind that "God knows best" and "Trust Him" and "Glory in your suffering."

Strangely enough, neither that voice nor the part of me that wants Him is willing to settle there. It's like saying, "There's this God who says eternal life is to know Him, but you're just supposed to accept Him."

With my photography, I've been to a LOT of weddings. Most wedding sermons include something about marriage being a picture of Christ and the Church. In marriage, there should be an important little thing called intimacy. It's that thing that allows free, open communication on every level, that thing that demands vulnerability for both parties.

If I am to have intimacy with God, I need to be vulnerable. I don't have a leg to stand on if I try to hold myself back from Him - after all, He was the one who already laid His life down for me. Greater love and all that.

Why is it so hard to be vulnerable with Him?

Because His idea of a happy ending may be extremely different from mine. Because I can't control Him. Because He hasn't always given me exactly what I wanted. And to trust Him with where I am today means that I have to let Him hold tomorrow. Whatever it brings.

There are times I wish that I was wedged into a mold of sweet godliness that caused me to make the right decision about God right away every time. This being human and being uncertain and hurting and being afraid thing is not everything it's cracked up to be. But He never meant it to be that way. We chose that because we wanted to be like Him. And now that we can, we don't bother finding out who He is because we're so busy telling ourselves what we have to be to be like Him.

I don't blame us. Finding out who He is puts us in the scariest, most vulnerable position. Because we know. We know that He loves us. And we know that He doesn't love us by "making all our dreams come true." We know that His dream for us is bigger than our own and probably not what we could imagine wanting. And we know that to have Him, we must accept this. Even engage with this. Even... desire this.

Is it petulance or fear that cries out within me that I don't want this?

But I want to know that I matter to Him. And I want Him.

So maybe I do... want this?