my mother said as I walked in the front door this afternoon.
As I was driving home amidst this (rare) summer deluge, I decided spontaneously (which doesn't happen often) to sit outside for awhile. As I sat in my father's truck bed, hugging my knees close and seeing how long I could keep my eyes open and lifted, I had a revelation.
This revelation requires background.
Firstly, I am a very sensual person. Don't get too excited-- by sensual I mean vividly aware and appreciative of things pertaining to the senses: the texture of a leaf, the orange/red/yellow swirls of a day lily, the scent of Earl Grey mixing with honey and milk. To be sure, I can over-romanticize ordinary things and fly away into a dream world quite easily, so I often have to remind myself to stay grounded in, er, reality. I tell you this because--
Secondly, I gripe at God a lot because He isn't tangible. I can't feel Him, touch Him, or see Him, and this is exceeding frustrating to my senses. At times, this causes doubt in my faith. Why isn't He tangible? Or, why couldn't I have lived when He was? If I can't physically register His presence, then how do I know He's near? Far? "It's not fair." Often it seems like His intangibility is a wall that blocks true communion. Or, so it has always seemed until today.
Pre-revelation, I was marveling at the feeling of thousands of rain drops massaging my arms, legs, and face. I didn't have a bad morning, but the rain was certainly making the day better. Green grass, dancing puddles, garden flowers, quiet street, parade of ants, dirt explosions-- sensory overload. Suddenly, I remembered that "every good and perfect gift is from above." The passage goes on to say "... coming down from the Father of Lights with Whom there is no variation or shadow due to change" (James 1:17, ESV). All at once, I marveled at the tangibility of God. The rain, the grass, the puddles, the flowers-- everything good is of God and is a reflection of His image and character. Not to suggest that within each flower resides the Spirit of God, but that when I revel in the beauty of falling rain, I am also reveling in the physical beauty of God. It's not a perfect metaphor, but it encourages me.
I'm all for context, so here's the precursor to verse 17.
Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial,
for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life,
which God has promised to those who love him.
Let no one say when he is tempted, "I am being tempted by God,"
for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one.
But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire.
Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin,
and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.
Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers.
James 1:12-15, ESV
Make no mistake-- my sensuality can certainly (and does) lead to temptation. The excess of it becomes an idol, and the lack of it causes discontent. As James reminds me, this temptation is of my own and can 'give birth to sin.'
However, it does not have to be utilized thusly. Under control, it is a marvelous way to relish in the beauty of my Father. I am so grateful for this, because this afternoon as I felt the rain quench my skin, I felt the love of God. Tangibly.
I like this. This is good.
Encouraging for sure.
I tend to overlook things like this and miss out on the beauty of the Lord.
Thanks for reminding me!
:)