The ‘Net is a pretty cool place.
I asked, “What’s the hardest substance known to man?”
- wurtzite boron nitride
- triple-bonded carbon atoms, known as carbyne
- graphene
. . . and on and on it goes. The more we know, the more we know we don’t know as much as we thought we knew. Whichever of them it actually is, God’s grip is stronger. Much stronger.
Yesterday morning the quartet my son and I began back when, 4GRACE, sang at Wichita’s Central Community Church. We joined them in one of a summer themed Sunday series, “Gospel Worship Day”. We sang four songs, the last being, “He Is Here.”
It is appropriate that my son, Nate, is featured. His story of the past decade is not mine to tell; he is articulate and when he’s ready, he’ll tell it himself. It is a story of intense squeezing of the mind, soul and spirit no young husband ought to experience.
Equally appropriate, then, that the lyrics he laid on us all like a warm blanket on a cool morning speak so squarely to where he’s been . . .
I sense an awesome moving of the Holy Spirit
And I see His countenance resting on your face
I know that there are angels hovering all around us
For the presence of the Lord is in this place
. . . And it was. He was. As we sang each song, more and more hands went up across the early morning group of a thousand or more believers. Age meant nothing; each person was giving mute testimony: “Been there. God’s good!” Then as Nate began the second verse, I saw some tear-stained faces added to the raised hands . . .
I searched for peace among the shadows, dark and lonely
Gave up on finding that strong and lasting love
I tasted all the things that sin could find to offer me
But today I feast on manna from above
He is here, Hallelujah
He is here, Amen
He is here, Holy, Holy
I will bless His name again
He is here, listen closely
Hear Him calling out your name
He is here, you can touch Him
You will never be the same
A. W. Tozer wrote, “It is doubtful God can use a man greatly until He has wounded him deeply.” No. God doesn’t callously play god with people’s lives. Yes, He does take the aggregate of life experiences – and how you and I respond to them – to mold and shape and polish us.
Nate’s a good example. By the look and glory shining on so many faces yesterday morning, seems as though leaving a blank here works. ________’s a good example. You and I both could write our name there.
Psalm 94 speaks of God “providing a circle of quiet within the clamor of evil.” Can you imagine anyone silly enough to deny our world right now easily fits “the clamor of evil”?
Yet right in the midst of it all God creates for His kids “a circle of quiet”. Many’s the time right in the middle of ‘the clamor’ I’ve felt what could only have been an Angel Team surrounding me. Yeah–a literal protective globe of quiet.
That’s not all. Down a few verses, listen to how personal it gets . . . “If GOD hadn’t been there for me, I never would have made it. The minute I said, “I’m slipping, I’m falling,” your love, GOD, took hold and held me fast. When I was upset and beside myself, you calmed me down and cheered me up.”
Tell me that doesn’t resonate deep within you. Tell me your heart isn’t nodding right now.
He is here, listen closely
Hear Him calling out your name
He is here, you can touch Him
You will never be the same
He is. It’s really that personal, too. He knows Nate’s story and right now has a huge arm around my son. I know that my children, in this case my son and grandson are in God’s unfailing, untiring grip that is unknown magnitudes more powerful than any of the substances listed above–or any that we’ll ever discover. I know there’s only one thing in the Universe than can open God’s grip on my girls, my boy and my grandchildren: their own choice. The Bible’s pretty clear on that. God will NOT let go of them.
So, yeah. Hear God calling YOUR name. No matter what’s swirling around you, He isn’t bothered by it and doesn’t want you to be, either. You really can touch Him.
And you really will never, ever be the same after an up-front-and-personal encounter with your Creator.
“Okay, really, Dan, don’t you think those people in church were just having an emotional few minutes like anybody else would?”
Noop. Don’t. If I hadn’t been singing, I’d have been bawling like a baby, remembering a crucible or two of pain and suffering of spirit I’ve been through. And how God was always-always-always sittin’ on ready, just waiting for my slightest effort in reaching out to Him.
See, we’ve all reached for the wrong things when disaster strikes. We all have tried the stuff that might be immediately sweet but instantly turned colossally bitter.
Know what’s red and bad for your teeth? A brick. Point? Some things need to be accepted as truth. No matter how often you try to disprove them, the answer will always remain the same. We tend not to learn from one another much. “I gotta learn for myself.”
You will.
I searched for peace among the shadows, dark and lonely
Gave up on finding that strong and lasting love
I tasted all the things that sin could find to offer me . . .
But you don’t have to.
But today I feast on manna from above
He is here, Hallelujah!
He is here, Amen!
“I don’t use words like ‘hallelujah’ or ‘amen’.”
Fine. Use ‘awesome’ or ‘Whoa!” I don’t care. The point of the Psalm, and the song, and the testimony from personal experience of the singer–and of this post is . . .
Wait for it . . .
You don’t have to worry about God ever failing to protect and give you peace, no matter WHAT is happening to or around you. And you sure don’t have to worry about God accidentally dropping you. He’s got some serious grip, there.
Ain’t happenin’. Just sayin’.
Loving you,
Dan
© D. Dean Boone, July 2014