Compiling God's Code

As each day passes, I wonder where God leads me. I certainly don’t have a clue. I follow because he is my Lord, and I know that obedience helps me to understand this crazy world. Whatever became of my past and whatever might transpire in my future, I must have faith and obey the spirit that stirs my soul.

I sit and watch as people pass by. I don’t know them, and they don’t know me, and yet, we are connected by a God that loves us all — that essence that drives us to wake up each morning, to love that significant other, that damages the heart when we get hurt, and yet, so many struggle to ignore it; they push the spirit back into the inner closet of their ego, hoping that if they pretend it isn’t there, then it’s not there. But unfortunately, the emptiness left will remind them, poke, maybe yell, “fill me.” In the night while in bed, staring at the ceiling, they wonder why life doesn’t make sense, and when they finally drift to sleep, the spirit is set free, and they dream of happiness and love.

Funny thing is, I’m not just talking about nonbelievers (I’m not sure that I like defining people by their belief in a God because I hope they are only in that temporary state at this moment, and since God never quits, they will one day discover him.); many of these people believe in God, but they have placed God in a box defined by others, the bible, preachers, or family. Instead of openly listening to the spirit, they hear what they want to hear due to selective listening which is bound by the box. See, that’s another problem with the term “nonbeliever.” Who is the nonbeliever? I’ve heard Christians and Muslims classify other religions as nonbelievers, pointing the fingers at each other, looking only from within their box.

I don’t know where I’m going with this tonight. I can’t sleep. I guess I’m bothered by the fact that no matter how hard I’ve worked at overcoming my genetics and life experiences that have shaped this shy man, I still have a long way to go to sharing the love of God with all the broken people in this world, and since we are all broken, then that means everyone. I failed today, and I pushed aside the spirit that stirred my soul.

Today in a doctor’s office, I sat close by an elderly woman; she sat in a wheelchair and was dressed in a gown, struggling to catch the attention of her care worker because she couldn’t speak except by muttering. She seemed worn down, maybe from living a long life, maybe from an illness, or maybe just because life no longer mattered, but I watched her, wondering if God walked into that office what would he do, but I knew the answer. He would run to her like I do when one of my kids needs me; hug her; take her in his arms; tell her that he loved her and that at the end of her struggles she would live in his love and never know pain again.

I prayed that God give her peace and that he give me the strength to tell her he loved her, but I was weak, and I missed the opportunity to overcome my box and show God’s love. I’m not looking for comfort, so if you’re reading this, know that I understand that I’ve come a long way; I’m simply reflecting on how I need to react the next time the spirit moves in me, and it probably won’t be different the next time it happens or the time after that, but as I’ve learned on this journey and done so much already that I didn’t think that I was capable of doing, I feel confident that one day, I will tear down my box and get out of the chair and show the love of God.