Can I Recognize God?

            This morning (March 9^th) it felt like Spring.  It was 50º outside, there was just a touch of blue in the distant corner of the sky, and for the first time in a long time my daughter and I went for a walk without our winter coats. 

            “I hear the birds!” Ruthie exclaimed with excitement once we’d passed our rushing creek, full with melting snow.

            “Yeah, they’re singing; they’re excited because Spring is coming.”  I hadn’t noticed them before, but now their chorus filled my ears.  I am always so grateful to be drawn in to the delighted eyes and ears of my 3 ½ year old; she notices so much and draws my attention to all the little things that I would otherwise miss.

            As we walked on, I felt awake and new to the joys of this beautiful earth.  Every step felt invigorating.  When we were nearing home, God reminded me of a conversation Ruthie and I had a few days ago.  She had expressed frustration that she couldn’t see God, and as it was bedtime, I had simply stated that He was everywhere and left it at that.  But now, out in Creation, it was clearly evident that God was, indeed, everywhere.

            “Look, Ruthie!  Everywhere we look, we can see God.  Everything we see tells us about Him.”

            She smiled and began looking around with anticipation on her face.  I gave her an example:

            “I see God in the road we’re walking on, because He leads us in the way we should go.  And I see God in our home, because in it we are safe, just like we’re safe in God.  Where do you see God?”

            “I see God in that bird,” she offered.

            “Yes,” I said, “because God lifts us up on wings like a bird.”

            “It’s a robin!”
            “We can see God in the robin, because a robin tells us that Spring is coming, and in God, all things are made new.”

            “I see God in the puddles,” she said with a big smile.

            “Yes, because stomping in the puddles brings us joy, and so does God!”

            We went on like this for some time, Ruthie pointing out every little thing she saw, and me doing my best to point out God in each thing.  It wasn’t until she pointed out our burn pile, which is currently burning, that I thought about this week’s lesson for my Bible study.

            “I see God in our burn pile.”

            “Because God is like the fire, burning away all that is bad, or that isn’t needed, or that isn’t of Him.”  I don’t know how that translated into her 3-year-old mind, but I know how it hit mine.  Our lesson this week was on the crucifixion of Jesus.  I’d read the story in all four Gospels for three mornings in a row.  I’d been praying for something new, for God to open my eyes to something I hadn’t seen before.  It wasn’t until I read Luke 23 in the Amplified version that God answered my prayer.  To set the scene, the sky had turned black.  The earth trembled.  And Jesus had just died:

            “Now the centurion, having seen what had taken place, recognized God and thanked and praised Him…” (verse 47).

            Ruthie and I had been recognizing God in all the beauty of creation, but what about the burn pile?  What about the smoke and ashes?  What about destruction?  What about when everything seems to be going wrong?  What about when the thing I wanted is out of reach, or burned up, can I still find God?  Can I still recognize Him?  And even more than recognize Him, can I thank and praise Him? 

            Jesus lived on this earth in order that we might know the Truth, the God who loves and treasures us; He died to set us free to love Him in return.  If I look to my circumstances, life can be overwhelming when things don’t go my way, but if I look to the truth of a God who died for the love of me, and rose again so that I might live with Him forever, what can I do but thank and praise Him?   In the middle of a broken world that doesn’t always seem to go right, I pray I can still see God, and know that He is still in control, and that out of the ashes comes life and love and trust in a God whose heart burns for me.

            Holy Father,

                        Help me to be like the centurion and recognize You in all things, whether good or bad, beautiful or ugly.  And in seeing You, may I glorify You and bear witness to the Truth of who You are: King of my life, King of all.

                        Amen.