I have a list of topics and experiences that I have had over the past month that seemed blog-worthy, but you know how it goes with the whole time thing and not having it. In the meantime, I had a very "Holy ordinary"* experience that I decided should trump the others for now.
Lately, it seems like I have been drowning in heavy experiences of both life and death, both times of rejoicing and times of mourning and crying out. These seem to be the times that it is obvious for us to look to and for God, whether it is in thanksgiving or with heavy questions, anger, or pain. But what about all of those ordinary times in between?
During our Wednesday night Gathering meals, here at our church, we share "God moments" with one another before we pray and head onto the other evening activities. These God moments come in a variety of ways, but the basic question is, "Where have you seen God in your life in this past week?"
Well, with all of the recent events in the life of our congregation, I have been looking to see where God is working. Even though I never doubt God's presence, I like to be reassured that I can still see God's love and light breaking in through all the crap (yes, Mom, that was the nicest way I could put it) that life throws at us.
I was thinking over this again the other night as I was bathing my 9 month old daughter. Where have I seen God this past week? What about today? What about RIGH NOW? I began to think about the very ordinary act of bathing my daughter, which led me to think about how many other people were living the same joy of watching their sweet baby girl splashing in the water, only taking breaks to look up with her big, gorgeous, joyful eyes and offer huge smile? I felt connected to so many people as I thought about that, and it also made me think about what a blessing it was to be in that place at that time with my precious, healthy little girl. I thought to those who were, instead, crying out in pain or grief, those who were seeking the light in the midst of darkness. My moment of joy was slipping away quickly. And so I took a breath, leaned over to rest my chin on the side of the tub, looked at my baby girl, and prayed to know God in that moment -- in that insignificant, ordinary moment for which I gave thanks -- and I swear to you it was like a blanket was wrapped around my shoulders. I felt warmth and peace, and those worries were quickly lifted.
I love times of obvious "God moments," times of spiritual highs or great revelations of God's power and presence. And yet, I pray that I continue to be aware of God in the simple times and not just the hyped up moments. Because I truly believe that these moments of the "Holy ordinary" are the ways in which we can ground our faith and build up an understanding of God's presence, so that when those spiritual highs come along they will be a bonus, not a need. And when those times of despair creep in, it will be that much easier to know that we are not abandoned to the darkness.
Where have you seen God this past week? What about today? What about RIGHT NOW?
*I just decided to claim this as the term for what I experienced. Holy, in it's simplest explanation, is that which is "set apart." So the Holy ordinary, for me, are seemingly ordinary moments in our lives through which the experience of God has marked them as Holy/set apart.
