I’ve been back from Colorado for a week, and this afternoon is the first time I feel capable of starting to write about what happened.
There were no huge events, no giant breakthroughs, no life-altering answers to questions. But there was stirring. God showed up in the mountains like he has so many times before.
Other times his voice has been loud and unmistakeable. What made me fall in love with my Father more this trip was the soft and quiet, yet still unmistakeable way he spoke.
He drew me in to listen and bid me to pay attention to the details, to the small things, to the gifts he would give me each day. He invited me to himself, and for once I was willing to sit and be still instead of Him having to chase me down. For once, I allowed what God says about me to be more true than the value I receive from the world based on what I accomplish.
I’ve taken my time processing through this trip to Colorado. I’m spending time trying to delve deeper into ideas instead of moving on to the next thing. I’m typically the type of person who needs to have things figured out. It makes me anxious if there’s a thought or feeling rolling around and I don’t know where it belongs. But one of the gifts God gave me the past two weeks is the freedom to have peace in the midst of not having everything figured out.
So, I’m writing this today and I don’t have everything figured out. I believe that God is healing my heart and reshaping how I view life in significant ways, but how exactly that’s going to play out? I’m not sure yet.
But the one thing I have begun to grasp on a heart level is that God is limitless where I am limited. He is incomparable to anything my mind can comprehend. He is the Creator, and he is perfectly sovereign over his people. He does not abandon.
As I sat on the porch of our cabin reading J.I. Packer’s Knowing God and staring at the mountains, there was one word that stuck in my mind:
For me, the mountains are a place where creation is clearly crying out the majesty, the greatness, of God.
When I think about how mountains came into being, how altitude changes oxygen concentration, how mountain goats can scale the side of a cliff and how the Continental Divide pushes river flow east and west, I can only praise God’s greatness.
I can not comprehend how all of these things came to be. I can understand them now, as they exist, but I did not think them up. God is great. I am small.
I am created. I do not have the power to breathe life.
But, He is the author of all life.
And sitting in the middle of the mountains, which scream God’s greatness, I am humbled to realize that I have such small thoughts of my Creator.
I’m humbled to realize that in an effort to understand an incomprehensible God, I have been comparing his abilities to my own.
I’m humbled to realize my belief that God has abandoned me, and how I have dishonored the King who cares perfectly for his people.
I’m humbled to realize that I too often base who God is off my circumstances, and not off what He says about himself.
And I’m humbled to realize that despite all of that, He still calls me to himself and speaks gently to me.
All of creation, the nations, world rulers, the stars- they are nothing compared to Him.
When I allow God to be who he is- incomparable, a perfect King in greatness and intimacy, limitless in power- I have peace in the midst of not having it all figured out.
I don’t want to follow a god I can understand. That is no god worth giving my life to.
I want to follow a God who knows the intricate details of how my body was created and functions. Who created the stars and calls them out by name. Who was before all things and holds all creation together.
I want to follow a God called Majesty.