I remember one time when I had just started going to a new church, Gabriel was almost three years old… We were leaving service, and as I was putting him in the car seat, he asked me very flatly, “What is God?”
When he asked me, I was dumbstruck. Not because he asked the question, but because I didn’t know how to answer.
Tonight, I’ve spent time with The Lord. Not spending time, like playing guitar and thinking, oh, that’s a good song. That’s pretty. I mean, I’ve been laying in a puddle of my own snot and tears. I’ve been spending time with The Lord trying to find the answer to the question I did not have for my son. Because I realize the last seven years of my life, I’ve been in the church. But I’ve never been encased in the presence of majesty.
I’ve been close. I’ve been close enough that I felt the heat of the Holy Spirit. I’ve been mesmerized by it enough just to run my finger across the flame of the candle, but never bold enough to be consumed by it. I don’t want to burn for all eternity, but I’m not even willing to hold the match when it starts to hurt.
I’m Paul. I’m the chief of sinners. I’m the worst of the worst of the worst. Paul was a murderer of Christians. The blood on my hands comes from the sick I didn’t pray for, the orphans and widows I didn’t care for, and the imprisoned I didn’t visit. Those I did not love, I murdered.
Is God not mercy? Is God not hope? Is He not an ever-present help in times of trouble? What is He, if He is not a Father to the fatherless, and power to the powerless? What is He if He is not a King? Either we believe He is who He says He is, or we don’t. Either we believe He is love, or we don’t. Either we believe He is Lord of all, or we don’t. But if we call ourselves Christians, we reflect what we believe God is. And I’m tired of making God out to be a complacent God.
What is God? What if He’s us?
What if we’re Him?
Don’t read into that as a hippie new age doctrine. It’s in the Bible. And if we’re to believe the Scriptures are true, then when it says we are the body of Christ, we probably are.
Lord, forgive me for being a murderer. Forgive me for being a liar and a thief. Forgive me for how I’ve represented You. Convict every thought in my mind and every deed in my heart. I’m sorry I ever ran from Your fire. When Your candle was placed before me, I’m sorry I turned away. And I’m sorry for being a poor excuse for a Christian. Forgive me.
To all of you, forgive me.