Pondering Intimacy with God

This morning I am pondering intimacy with God. In the OT the priests went into the Holy of Holies at a certain time. It was like a seriously intense date with God. They planned for it and prepared for it.

 

In the NT, those who were intimate with Christ made the effort to be with Him, to know Him. Granted, there were those who were healed who didn't come near Him, such as the centurian's servant. But the ones who knew Him, spent time with Him. They talked with Him, listened, asked questions, prepared for time with Him.

 

Even the woman at the well who "chanced upon Him" responded to Him and talked with Him, laid her hearts questions before Him, listened, and dared to believe the impossible, not because someone told her about Him but because of her epxerience with Him.

 

Today I am pondering intimacy with Him. The listening, heart sharing, believing the wonder of Him, and preparing for Him, not in a religious way, but in a personal way.

 

You know, Zaccheus did not prepare lunch in a grand formal dining room, but he had intimate time over a meal he had not even planned. Kind of like hotdogs on white bread with a line of mustard and the leftover chips from the open bag. And Jesus totally felt honored and welcome.

 

One thing each of the intimate encounters with Jesus has in common is that the person actually made the effort to spend time in Jesus' presence, to connect, to hear, to be honest.

 

Pondering....

 

Jerri

www.jerrieklley.com

How Did God and I Become So Intimate? Conversations like This.

Over the years, especially the last few years, people have asked me how God and I developed the intimacy we have and how He became my best friend. It is a lot of things. One of the biggest is honest communication, not just the angry spewing or aresenal of painful questions most folks think about when they think of "real" or "honest", but talking to Him like He is my husband sitting with me on the bed or across the table or on the deck, and we talk with the knowing that whatever we're in, we are trying to find each other in it. Sometimes I can't find Him, but He is always trying to find me, too, so with the understanding that the goal is to find each other, we talk. I feel like He would like for me to share some of tonight's talk from my journal so people know what I mean. I hope it blesses you.

Jerri

 

Dear God,

I won't pretend to understand the last month. I won't pretend to understand today. And I'm not even gonna ask. What I am going to ask is for your grace while I am walking through the trials. I know they build character, and I know I need that. I"m good with that, like really peaceful good with that, but since you are the noly husband I have and the only best friend I have and the only one to talk to at 10 o'clock at night so I know how to handle today's stuff tomorrow, I'm just going to tell you the tears don't mean I don't trust you or that I'm angry. They just mean I'm tired. I am mentally so tired. I know. It'll all get done, and the ongoing issues with...everything...will either get fixed or not. And i know a few years from now, I won't remember tonight. I'll just see some amazing way you handled it better than I can imagine. And I'm really trying to hold onto that. The better than I can dream or imagine. Because right now, that isn't how things look. But I know. Circumstances don't define you. You define circumstances. And problems aren't problems for you. They are just a way for you to show powerful love. I do know this. I really do. And sometimes I just need to write you a letter and tell you all this because I need to read it. :-) I need to be aware again that the goal really isn't about the circumstance or handling trials perfectly to impress you, but the goal is to find each other and hold on. Thank you for holding on when I get lost until I find you. I love you.

The Hard Nights

It's about 10:30 when I crawl into bed...trying to get comfortable in my skin...and I lie there staring into the mostly dark with the lightning playing its flashy game of peekaboo through the window.

And I stare.

And tap fingers on my stomach.

And roll eyes to look at the glowing numbers on my bedside clock.

Minutes. I've passed minutes.

Sigh.

These are the hard nights.

It isn't the night after a long day with the kids or a mentally exhausting day with house repairs or a day spent on the phone navigating my way through computerized voices only to be told computers are down, can I call back later.

Those are the nights when I crawl into bed happy the day is over, happy to have a reprieve, happy for the quiet. Those are the nights my eyes are almost closed before my head hits the pillow. Those are the easy nights.

Tonight my mind is full.

It is full of manuscript progress and things I learned in my research. It is full of another saving grace from the world-reboot no longer needed...and released...and the excitement of the next adventure. It is full of the things that kept a smile on my face throughout the day...that keeps a smile on my face now.

My mind is full...and my bed is empty.

And it is hard.

Because there is no one to tell about upper recievers and lower receivers and glass bedded anything. There is no one who cares that I FINALLY figured out that plot snag I have been trying to untangle for a week. No one is there to give testament to my stepping from one season to another. No one to smile with me or laugh or roll his eyes at a bad joke.

Those are hard nights...the full-heart crying empty nights...

...Not because I have no one to share my bed...but because I have no one to share my life.

And that is hard.

What I Need

I turned off the phone, curtailed the emails, and even cancelled coffee dates. The TV sat silent. Even the radio lost its glow. I sat in the quiet...listening.

The Lord was doing something. His healing touch reached deep into my heart into areas I truly thought were healed already. Gently, He opened wounds that left me breathless with pain. Mercy does not hide from pain when pain is necessary for revealing the need for healing.

In the quiet hours, we sat together, and He spoke to my spirit and mind, adjusting thoughts, addressing fears, exposing lies. He didn't try to fix the tears with cliches, nor did He try to make me above them because He was uncomfortable with the truth of them. Instead, He held on to me in unexpected ways...the perfect song at the perfect time, blogs that wrote exactly what I was feeling, human touch that did not let go but whispered, "It's okay."

We became intimate in a new way, a deeper way.

I wasn't okay, but that was okay. He didn't expect me to be. In that situation at that moment, I was exactly what I should be--hurt and confused. And instead of trying to pretend I was okay and life was rosy, I was doing exactly what I needed to be doing...

...Seeking Him.

Crying on Him.

Crying out to Him.

Being the broken, desperate me with deep needs that cliches and human advice can't fill.

Being the me He always knows I am...

...The me He adores.

...The me He longs to hold.

...The me He is always seeking.

In the quiet, He found me, and I found Him.

And He is exactly what I need.