Our God is an awesome God!

How many of us share this feeling of boredom when we listen to the minister deliver his sermon about how grateful we should be for our God’s sacrifices for us.  The prevalent thought that sometimes peeps into our mind is “Here we go again! Same message, same stories.”

Recently I have been drenched with this feeling.  Of course I know that I cannot survive without God.  And I believe that my life would be rather meaningless without Him in my life, but…the constant reminders of His being the source of my being came to me like a nag.  So I would defend myself from the onslaught of repetitive reminders by covering my spiritual ears ‘til all I heard was the din of a dry soul.

Driving to my next meeting from a heavy one, late last week, I found myself caught in the traffic of A.S. Fortuna.  Gazing absently at the sidewalk, I noticed some plants, striving to meet the sun against the dust-ridden fence.  Each leaf had a shape of its own, even if they belonged to the same branch.  Other plants had other colors, and shapes.  The blend of greens and other hues made me wonder how God must have painstakingly designed each one delicately adding a loving touch to each fringe, creating a balance even in its disorder.  And I was awed.

A honk nudged me to reality so that I had to push the shift stick to the right gear to move the car.  I took note of how my hands could grip, how my elbows could flex, how my foot could place pressure and release the accelerator.  How my knees could bend and my neck turn; how my eyeballs could roll, and how my brain could register the sounds and sights around me.  Then I saw a crane on a building, bending over to pick a log, and noted how the operator had to move it so it could function.  And I looked at my fingers and saw no strings, or current, or mechanism and I could twist, fidget and make a fist.  I could touch, feel, and hold.  Then I saw how God’s work is so perfect that man’s best work can only replicate but cannot perfect all the functions of a hand.  And I was awed.

Finally reaching my destination, wondering how I was able to make it early when the car lines seemed unending, I watched the hands of the clock on my wristwatch and knew why God gave me the time.  And I was awed.  When we are caught in our own spiritual deserts, God allows us to find ourselves in the midst of a quicksand.  Slowly sinking, sinking until our feet reach the bottom and we are slowly covered with the sands of stagnation.  We raise our faces to breathe and realize we are after all just buried in the muck of our indifference and that through all our neglect, God has just remained there, waiting for us to shake off the dirt and be clean if we just pull ourselves out of that hole when He throws in a vine.  And I am awed.

What started out as a heavy day ended up well, with negotiations paved by a simple reminder that our God is in control.  And that our main business is to simply acknowledge that He speaks to us even in our silence and rebelliousness.  Our God, like a loving parent, allows us to sulk, feel sad, get bored, and question.  And as He reads our hearts, He sees beneath all our grumblings is that desire to overcome and be filled with His Glory so we do not thirst for long, until we will thirst no more.  How wonderful it is to be loved by an awesome God!