This afternoon, I had a very interesting discussion with a fellow believer, my back yard neighbor. Found out he’s a Gideon, which I respect tremendously. He’s also a successful business man, and attends a Baptist church. He comes across as one with a strict and somber view of God, with lots of warnings not to approach God lightly or casually, warnings to kneel when I pray, and an urgent command to pray with faith — after he pegged me real good as dealing with worry.
I am in no way judging or mocking those who have such a serious faith-paradigm, but this meeting comes at a time where one of my most trusted accountability partners talks about an intamacy with God where he feels God’s presence come and join him when he’s watching a football game on TV.
I’m reminded of being 12 years old, talking about a girl on the playground with everyone who knew her, so that I could know her — without actually knowing HER. Why am I so eager to get others’ “take” on God. I already know the answer. It’s because my view of Him keeps changing. Our relationship is so non-tangable, sometimes it feels like I’m making it all up in my head. That’s what makes faith so hard.
I often pray for a collision with God, that He will invade my space with His presence in a way that leaves me in awe, feeling like a miracle just swept me off my feet. I know it is my time in life to tune in to the “still, gentle voice” as He walks quietly beside me all the time, and can imagine Him waiting for me to look over and notice that He is really the one chosing the path, making it safe, waiting for discussion and relationship.
He has told me a number of times that He is not going to remove the element of faith, but I still strive for some sort of guarantee. My neighbor David pegged me on worring about my family finances and that was after I confessed not being a good steward. That surprised me. With the hard line he took on all his other somber warnings throughout the conversation, he simply said, “When you pray, you need to pray with faith!”
I asked him if he was wise enough to teach a younger man how to have faith, and he said “yes”, but we sort of skipped that part and I went back to mowing the lawn.