God in the Crevices

Posted: December 5, 2012 in A Day in the Life

beams and crevices - 2I took a walk in this morning’s crisp, cool air, trying to clear my head and find where God was today.  For many reasons, I felt lost.  And so I found myself on a quiet walk through town, looking for God.  I happened upon the courtyard of an old, brick church in the middle of town.  This happens to be one of my favorite spots to think.  And to look for God.  Not that I think God actually lives at this particular address.  But in this courtyard sits a beautiful, plain wooden bench, encompassed by walls of worn and steady brick that offer a sort of fortress.  From there you can look to the sky above, unguarded.  Such a space expands my soul and allows it to feel protected enough to venture out and look for him.  I sat for a while, staring at one of the bricks beneath my feet, observing with great intent its color and grain and weather-worn cracks.  I knew that there, in that moment, God heard every one of the words I was too numb to say.

A while passed and I began to feel permission to enter the room on the other side of the brick wall, thinking that perhaps this had been my real destination all along.  The tall, gothic door opened almost arthritically, announcing to no one in particular my arrival.  My feet treaded cautiously across the ancient floor planks, creak by creak.  I was reminded of the inner sanctum of my heart as I entered this familiar place once again:  protected by brick and stone, noisy underfoot, but with a sense of beautiful expanse that allows one to breathe and to feel.  And to hear.  As I walked further in, sunlight glowed through each of the stained glass windows, illuminating their story.  I stood for a moment, wondering from which of the dark and hardened pews I could best find God.  I decided on the fourth pew back, on the right.  I sat a couple of spaces in, as if to make room for God should he decide to sit down beside me.  I knelt on the floor and felt welcomed by its sympathetic groan.

I didn’t say many words.  Sometimes “please, God” is the only prayer a soul need utter.  There is a sweetness and an honesty in silence, in that space when no words can be found.  As I knelt, my eyes were drawn up to the ceiling and I noted the strong, large beams that promised to allow neither the roof nor the heavens above it to come crashing through.  In that space and for that moment, my soul found sanctuary.  And in that room protected by weathered brick; there in the beams and in the cracks and crevices between, I found God.  He didn’t sit down beside me and he didn’t shout.  But in the quiet, in the sacredness of the silence I heard his faint whisper.

Tears.  Hope.  I lingered, allowing myself to feel the weight of a present God; of a God that is in this moment and the next; a God that is there in the brick and beams, and in the cracks and the crevices between.

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Comments
  1. dbh4asong says:

    This is truly beautifully conveyed! Thank you so much for reminding us that God is not just in the vast open spaces but in every crack and crease. I so envy you your time there in the silent beauty. These experiences are too few and far between. Thanks for taking us into yours.

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