Thomas

I’m sitting here, holed-up in my office wanting to write. There are things on my mind and struggles in my heart. I missed a meeting tonight that I have been anticipating all week and I suddenly feel like a loser. I had things to say - things to bring to the table that I thought were important. Maybe they weren’t as important as I thought they were and God was saving me from embarrassment or from offending people I shouldn’t. Maybe he was saving me from myself.

So instead I am sitting here reading, pondering and reminiscing - thinking about writing.

As much as the idea of community has been on my mind lately, I still find myself closest to God when I am by myself. As I was reading my book I was reminded that I am not really by myself, which, I suppose, is why I feel the way I do. Sometimes the distractions of other people, even those I love dearly, prevent me from remembering that God is present, and my time alone is like a filter that allows me to focus on his presence.

But I still wish God would pull up a chair and reveal himself to me and have a chat with me. I wish I could see him face to face, hear him speak some great words of encouragement (like, “hey you should quit your day job and I’ll work out a way for you to earn a living writing and preaching!”). I want to see his expressions when I tell him about another goofy idea that I have. I want to see that first reaction that you get from close friends who tell you by the look on their face that you are teetering on the edge of lunacy. I know all that stuff, like if I saw God’s face it would kill me. Intellectually I understand that. But emotionally I yearn for more, just a glimpse that lets me know that I’m not as crazy as my non-Christian friends think I am. 

Of course he is looking over my shoulder while I write, probably shaking his head, maybe even giving a little spiritual snicker of exasperation. He is here, I know he is. He is reading as I write. Well, maybe he is reading before I write, I’m not really sure how that works for him. Technically, I guess, he already knows my concluding thoughts. Nonetheless, he is here - in this room, beside me, in front of me, in me. He is waiting for me to speak - to speak the words he already knows - and even more he is waiting for me to listen. But sometimes he is so hard to hear and so hard to see. 

I’m more like Thomas than I want to believe. Despite all my religious posturing I am still full of doubts. And yet... God is here. I know he is. And despite my doubts I sense his comfort and his patience. My doubts do not drive him away, in fact there are times, like tonight, when they seem to draw me closer to him. 

I think that was the ending he had in mind from the beginning.