Little Random Thought

It's funny the way God reaches people. Sometimes, when He's got a really big announcement to make, he uses prophecies and a big star and a band of trumpeting angels. (I've heard a hypothesis that the Christmas star was light from a distant supernova. Which is really incredible when you think about it because it would have had to explode thousands of years ago in order for the light to reach Earth at the right time... but I digress.)

Other times He uses something a little more subtle, like a rear-window defroster.

Lately I've been trying to know God a little better. I mean, I've been privileged to know about Him since I was a little kid, but we haven't exactly had a relationship. And maybe this should come as no surprise, but the first thing I met with was a lot of fear and doubt, anxiety
and sleepless nights... which in turn have contributed to my growing Starbucks addiction. (But that's another day's rant.) I questioned myself. I questioned my faith. Most of all I worried about the connection between faith and action, and how much of the latter is required to claim the former.

But this evening I wasn't thinking about any of that, because I was concentrating on backing down the driveway. It was dark, I was shivering too much to get a good grip on the wheel, my 11-year-old car was a bit grumpy at being roused in such cold weather, and the fact that the rear window was covered in a thin, translucent layer of ice did not help the situation. So of course, I flipped on the rear defroster. (Those things are so handy! Best car invention next to the heater.) The little wires started to heat up as I drove down the road, and I quickly realized that it was actually becoming harder to see. I had been able to look through the ice while it was solid and get a somewhat fuzzy view of what was going on, but now that there were little clear patches running in stripes across the glass, I couldn't see a thing.

Maybe getting closer to God is like that sometimes. You go through life just trying to get from one place to another, trying to keep things under control, but the world can be a pretty cold place. And after a while, this veil starts to build up and cloud your vision, and before you know it you're separated from God. Maybe you know he's out there, and maybe you know it's dangerous to keep moving without being able to see clearly. But in the process of clearing your vision, there are times when you're so focused on the contrast between the foggy view you're used to and the sudden clarity, that for a while you can't see anything ahead of you.

And if I'm getting this frazzled over a window defroster, just imagine what it will be like to meet God face to face!

I don't claim to see the big picture yet. I'm still confused. I'm still praying I don't hit a tree or run over the neighbor's cat--literally and metaphorically. But I thank Him for this small slice of clarity.