Compiling God's Code

Tonight, I sit at my desk, in my chair that is often too low that it makes my knees hurt, and I have to lean back and push the monitors back on the desktop so that I can read the words; otherwise my weakening eyes are unable to discern what I’m typing. Tonight, my head hurts from allergies and crying, which only complicates the allergy symptoms. Oh, I have the sad songs playing; well, I don’t like to call them sad; I prefer to refer to them as emotionally-inducing muses that stir the rambling in my head that allows the swirling ideas to funnel down my arms to my fingers and eventually onto my keyboard to finally end up on the computer screen.

Occasionally, I feel the weight of the world – its problems, more like humanity’s problems. The sadness, loneliness, hurt, anger, fear, confusion, and pain that so many people push deep inside as they deal with their days. We hid it so those around us continue to function, but when the sun goes down, and the homes’ owners close their doors and turn off their lights, the sorrow rises and gnaws at our soul.

I can’t even begin to imagine how Jesus felt while he walked among these biological bags that hold our emotions and souls. As the crowds swelled around him, the pain must have been unbearable; the pain of holding back and not ridding the world of all its grief. No wonder he went off in the woods to pray alone. With the deity in him unable to quell the roaring emotions of humanity, I’m sure Jesus dropped to his knees, crying and begging Father in Heaven to end the suffering.

But I didn’t sit down here to write about the dark side of the moon; I wanted to speak of angels on Earth. See, last weekend, I had the privilege of seeing my niece play volleyball at the University of Houston rec center, and that same weekend, the Special Olympics were also held in the same center. The contests were all water related if that matters or not. In between my niece’s games, where I had to sit on hard metal bleachers, I would take a break and go sit on comfy, cushioned chairs or sofas out in the common area. From that vantage point I could watch the Special Olympic contestants get their awards and then sit around me and rest in the common area with their families or care-takers.

At first, I was angry and sad that God, who is perfect and created a perfect world, somehow let these genetic abnormalities or accidents sneak out into the world. I thought it was cruel for the life the individuals and families would have to endure. To me, it was just another case of life’s injustices. But the more I sat and watched between game breaks, the more I began to see a truth, or perhaps God opened my eyes to his plans, but whatever the reason, I began to see pure love and joy expressed by the very people I had been praying for just a few hours before.

As I began to better recognize what was in front of me, I realized there were no abnormalities or accidents in this room. This was God walking, talking, hugging, jumping for joy, smiling, and running around having an innocent time. These were angels on Earth, the innocent, non-corrupted by this cruel world, the pure of heart, and the angels of God.

I haven’t been that happy in a while just sitting there observing the room. So much of me wished someone would come and grab my hand and invite me to join in; my shyness prevented me from jumping in there, and I pray to God that someday he give me the courage to do so, but I was happy there picturing Jesus and how tickled he would be holding the little ones.

God is perfect. As humans with a limited knowledge of this universe, we almost always misread and misunderstand his intentions. I started to write tonight because I wanted you to know that you should keep your eyes and heart open because you never know when the Lord will come and play right in front of you. My only regret is that I didn’t join in, but if that opportunity ever presents itself again, you can be sure that I will do my best to conquer my fears and join in.

I hope that you do as well. We all get down, trust me, I know, but we have to rise above that when God presents the moment; grab it; don’t judge it. Just love, and from that only faith will grow, and from that a kingdom of God.

I love you. Wade.