God always shows up. It may seem generalised to say it, but it is true. If he promised to never leave us or forsake us, then he won't and if we think he does then we don't believe him and that is another issue all together.
Last fall (2007) I did a School of Intercessory Prayer. I distinctly remember praying for Tibet during this school and hearing words like "warriors" and "worshippers" and beginning to pray when all the sudden my stomach felt like it had been hit by a ton of bricks, or some other magnificent force, and I began to weep and cry to the point of straining the muscles in my sides and injuring my throat. They say our memory is tied to our emotions and when we experience strong emotion we tend to remember the moment in more detail. Well, I remember this moment completely. I can tell you the way the room was set up, where certain people were standing, where I was, the decisions I made to get to that place in the room and, if I could put it in words, I could tell you exactly what it felt like.
This fall (2008) I was reading a book series that seemingly has little to nothing to do with God at all. (Yes, for those of you who wonder, it was THAT book series that caused me to be locked up in my house for weeks on end without even returning phone calls) At one point in the reading of this book series I had a deep revelation of Who God was and what his love for me looks like. To say it best, I swooned. For days on end I couldn't eat or sleep or think clearly. I was so in love that even people at work started asking what was wrong and saying, without my prompting, that I looked lovesick. I was and I will probably remember the feeling for the rest of my days.
In the winter of 2008 I was involved in setting up a prayer room in Colorado Springs. Through a number of circumstances, the completion of said prayer room was left in my hands, and, after an invitation, my brother-in-laws talented construction abilities. One day, before the unveiling of the room, I had shut myself up and locked myself in to do some painting. I was standing on a step ladder with a roller brush, paint all over my clothes, face, hair, the tarp on the ground and numerous other places it managed to splatter (I am a very messy painter, but I love it). In an instant, standing there, reaching the last border of the newly constructed wall, I had a feeling I can only describe one way. The feeling of God falling in love with me. I know, to some it sounds silly and/or improbable, but it was the most uncoerced, pure, surprising feeling - I know it didn't arise from me.
Today I feel a different piece of God's love. I feel the love a person feels when they are their weakest, when they don't deserve it, but it is given to them anyway. I feel the love of a Father, of a true Servant and Giver that doesn't wait to be wooed, but does all the wooing. I feel the completeness of a love experienced without any action of my own. It is a true love and it is the state of love I hope to live in forever. Somehow, it seems that this state of love is where the seeds will grow that will allow me to do all other things. Like fertile soil embedded with promise not yet realized.
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