Where I tend to hint at scary things obliquely, Ryan walks right over and embraces fearful truths. Where I would feel God’s silence or God’s distance, but not dare to admit it, my friend just opens all of that messiness up for me to see and sing and own.
I was talking about all of this the other night, gathered with a group of folks from church to get to know each other better and help one another down the path. I was talking about how I used to offhandedly throw out the line, ‘if you’re feeling far from God, it’s not because He’s moved!’, but how recent events have left me wondering about the accuracy of that statement. Because, to my recollection, I haven’t gone anywhere, but God seems to have. I haven’t stopped asking him questions, but he’s not answering them. And as I was talking about all of this, about my intention to find a way to wait for God, hoping that he’d “come back to me,” I suddenly realized that I might be a little misguided. I might be rushing things. Maybe it is kindness and love and mercy and grace that is behind his silence and distance. Maybe God knows that his presence would be too painful just now.