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Almighty Ambushes

Almighty Ambushes

In a world of specialists and celebrity I am increasingly grateful that I don’t need someone to “lead me into the presence of God.” God is present. God’s hands are the bookends of time. Though I can be further awakened to the reality of God’s presence, I have no need for specialist mediators or celebrity priests.

God is alive and well. No need for well meaning leaders and a shaman-like mantra, calling God down as if He’s an adolescent late for dinner. Or disinterested. Or asleep.

God is alive and well. He’s unfettered and running rife, bursting through the streets, grinning tears of joy because it’s all coming together, just as He planned. He knows how the story ends.

God is alive and well, and He’s been careless. I’ve been tailing him. Tracking God-clues through the streets. Stalking the Creator through concrete jungles and urban grime. Time and time again I’ve been ambushed by the Almighty. Coffee shops, concerts, lively discussions, focused prayer… heads thrown back, sides-splitting laughter at nothing funny… ambushed by mundane moments.

I thought I had Him pinned down, boxed Him into the “next big move.” Then there was the sunrise. It sent me reeling. Engulfed in fire, I was awed by the God-of-the-Mundane, if you can call Him that.

The God of a good glass of red and conversation with old friends; the God of saxophone-solo jazz bands, the God of a sober walk by the lake and decent coffee.

I’m still clumsy, grasping to see Him. What can I expect when I’ve spent so long explaining away the cues, ignoring the giveaways? I’m trying some new lenses for my eyes of faith. I’m a chubby toddler with trainer wheels, playing hide-n-seek with Daddy.

Shhh… He’s close. I can feel it.

He’s at the cinema. I’m positive! I saw Him there, peeking from behind the curtains, smiling at the growing crowd, anxious for the opening scene ambush. God in green fatigues laying booby-traps as they leave. Screaming “Surprise!” from the pages of pained authors.

I see Him duck into a coffee shop. He grins at the staff who knows your name and your order. God is in them. Their skin smudged, but baring his fingerprints no less.

God dancing color across the bleak. God breathing depth into two-dimensional dry bones. His brush is thick with hope. Back and forwards across peeling flecked-paint canvases; now alive with His languid strokes of cool and green.

God launching another love-assault on unsuspecting lives. God cornering us – holding our chins in His hands and looking at us with soft eyes until we get it! He is present. We are in His presence.

"Step out of the traffic! Take a long loving look at me … "

[Psalm 46, The Message]


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