What do you call those moments when you are so in awe of the glory and wonder of God that it hurts? When you are suddenly very aware of how tenderly and passionately Jesus Christ has been loving and guiding you? And all the while you want to fall on your knees and cry out in surrender?
I have had these moments before. In fact the first time I found myself in a situation such as this was on vacation with my family, 11 years old, and praying quietly and tearfully alone in my vacation room. I probably had similar experiences throughout high school, as well, but after that time on vacation, the next experiences I can put my finger on have all occurred during my college career. To be most specific, these un-namable but sacred moments have been a regular occurrence for me over the past 12 months as I have fought through one of the most challenging yet rewarding years of my life.
So, now that you know I have experienced these sorts of things before, let’s get back to what they actually are. Do they have a name? “God moment,” as I used to call them just doesn’t seem appropriate. While they are without question moments filled with the knowledge of the presence of God, moments in which God’s reign is tangible, “God moment” seems oversimplifying. These moments are sacred, yet simultaneously turbulent and pacifying.
“Sacred moments,” perhaps?
“God storms,” because of the overwhelming, turbulent factor? No- that could easily be misinterpreted.
“Reminders of why I want to live for Christ”… No- too long.
“Sanctification”… If that is really what it is?
Or should I just not bother to put a name on it? Just soak in the power and goodness of the moment?
I like to put names to things. I guess that is one of my quirks. But, perhaps, when it comes to things concerning God, I shouldn’t try too hard. Not being able to name something is a sign of a lack of full understanding, and in this case that is completely appropriate. Truly I do not understand God and the way he works (as much I sometimes would like, anyway). And my lack of understanding is much of what leads to my awe and love of God.
So, hoping that this all made any sense at all…
I am going to end this bit as I focus on claiming for myself a contented acceptance of my inability to box and name these wondrous meetings with God.
Truly, I hope that this did make sense. As a writer, I want my readers to be able to understand what I am talking about… Duhh. But alas, if it didn’t make sense to you, it at least helped me myself.
With that, I wish you a cool and comfortable nighttime, with a hint of awe and wonder.