Reflection on a dead bug.

   Whenever I hear people say they experience the presence of God in nature I sort of feel like there is a little club I don't belong to. That club is called, "God made the mountains so of course when you look at mountains, you can see God. The hand of God. The creativity of God. The hugeness of God." When I look at a mountain, I see a mountain. Meh.....shrug. I KNOW RIGHT? You don't have to read on. Five dollars says you will.
  
   Before you give me an honorary club membership or defend nature, you need to know what club I belong to. What draws me deeply into the presence of God, is the dead bug that is squished on the upper wall in my shower. I refuse to wash it off. And if in someone's absent mindedness, they think they are doing me a favor by removing it, not to worry, there are plenty of other bugs that I can squish in its place. The bottom line is that for now, I need that dead bug. I need to see it everyday before I start my day....I do.

   You see, the presence of God involves all the senses, touch, site, sound, taste, and smell. As well as heart, mind, and soul. That is a lot of layers. Before you think I'm crazy about the taste part I want to remind you what Psalm 34:8 says, "Taste and see that the Lord is good."  When I sit in this Psalm a little while the image of coming home from college comes to mind. I am reminded that college was an uncomfortable place full of new things and risk, and feeling over my head. When I would go home my mom would ask me, "What would you like me to make you for dinner?" and I would get to request my favorite home cooked meal, usually meatloaf.  I would get to sit at a familiar table, with familiar family, in a familiar house, tasting food that my mommy made and being reminded that I am loved. Psalm 34:8 becomes..."Taste my mom's cooking and see that the Lord is good." When I reflect on that verse, I am brought to an image, which brings me to a feeling, which brings me to the Truth that I am loved. And that automatically brings me to the Presence of God. Feeling loved reminds me of my Father in heaven. The goodness of mercy. The goodness of knowing that at any point I can rest because Jesus has made His home in me.
   The dead bug does this for me in the same way.....
  
  You'd think that looking at the dead bug would be an unhealthy focus on morbid things, but not so. When I see the dead bug I am reminded of the fact that this is not my home, this place. I am reminded that the goal for my day isn't my personal gain, but to lift others up and stand with them through hard things. If I didn't have the bug I would forget that the goal isn't perfection and happy things. The goal isn't to make things better, but to be real sometimes and sit in hard things and let them just be hard..... .
   I am reminded of Truth that God is still in control even if there is pain in life. This is not heaven quiet yet and pain doesn't mean that God isn't working. I am reminded that even though Jesus healed Lazarus... he eventually died. This is not our home.
   You see, if I don't reflect on the dead bug then I go through my day thinking that pain is wrong and if pain is wrong then I better DO something....because God isn't doing anything about it. If I think God isn't doing anything about it...well then...I will! If I go to a meeting and it isn't being lead, then I'm going to lead! And if I think someone is mad, I'm going to try to convince them not to be mad. And if someone is hurt then I'm going to do inner healing prayer and get 'er DONE!!
   Our panic to control, and our panic to fix things....says a lot about who we think God is, and what He can do... or what He is supposed to do.
   The weekend that I gained clarity about God was a Saturday when Don was gone. I was cleaning the barbeque and a huge chunk of the grill sprang up into my eye. I knew it was bad immediately and went in the house to flush it out with water. After about 45 minutes I knew I needed extra help and asked friends on facebook if they knew am eye doctor I could call on a Saturday. My whole side of my face was turning red and my eye was so swollen. My kids were starting to get worried. I didn't know what to do. I leaned over the sink and yelled at God, "DO YOU EVEN SEE ME?" and then I started crying. It was the Truth of the dead bug.
   If God isn't doing anything to fix it....does he even see me?
   After about another 1/2 hour of trying to flush out the chunk in my eye, I resolved to just go sit in the living room. On my way to the couch, the sensation went away. I stopped. Moved my eye around and thought, "huh. That was weird." I gave myself time to reflect on how I really felt about God. Does He see me? And how many times have I tried to fix thing because I believe that God obviously doesn't care?
   I tried an experiment after that day. I paid attention to all the times that I said the words, "I thought that little problem was fixed!" or "Why are we still dealing with this?" and my favorite, "Maybe this time it will be better." Every time I caught myself saying those words I stopped, got in touch with the pain I was trying to fix. I felt it. And invited God to be with me.
   When I invited God to be with me in the pain I am reminded of the people who went before me.  God did not apologize when he asked Mary to bring Jesus into this world. He didn't. I think about her pregnancy as a single young lady. I think about her being nine months pregnant and riding on that donkey across the land and then in the end, she had to give birth in a dirty barn. Did God see her? I think about Jesus in the garden asking for the cup to be taken away but in the end surrendering, "Thy will be done." Did God see Him? Yes. Just because there are hard things, like death, and unemployment, and learning disabilities, and deer that eat our vegetables.... doesn't mean that God isn't doing anything. I don't know what the heck He IS doing. But He is doing.
   Last night my youngest was asked for the first time to contribute to the household. He sat on the bed for a long time. Then when he finally was held accountable to fold his shirts he cried the whole time he did it. One hour. Then when he had to go to bed right away because he spent so much time doing his chores, he cried while he got ready for bed. Then he cried while he was in bed for another hour.
   I went in to stare at him and he said, "I have to do everything around here. I have to fold my own shirts... I have to go to school all day.... I have to walk ALL the way home from school!" and I just watched his crying face. I wondered how much of our prayers are like this. God watches our struggles and knows that it's really all just a part of growing up and that our serving muscles or our confrontation muscles, or our making due with little muscles are just small, and sore. I think God sometimes looks at us and says, "I'm sorry, but I don't see any problem really." Last night the crying of my youngest wasn't a sign that something was wrong. His crying was a sign that everything was right. He should feel the pain of sacrifice. He should. On his own...he won't fold his own shirts.
  
   On our own. We will run from hard things. We will. I will. I do.
   When we have little children we encourage them to be creative and pretend. Now is the time to play "real". Invite God into the shower. Maybe God will just look into your crying face and smile. Maybe he will encourage, heal. Maybe He will tell you to confront. Maybe he will just dance with you. Maybe he will fix it, and maybe he won't. Just be with Him, and surrender. He sees you.

   Now excuse me, I got a date with a dead bug.