By Amy Tuttle
When I was little, and I couldn’t sleep, I would often find myself chatting with God. Sometimes it went like this:
Hey, God…I know you know that I’m thinking about you. And I know you know I know you know I’m thinking about you. And I know you know I know you know I know…
It went on and on. Other times I’d ask questions like,
Jesus, when you were a baby did you think about baby things or did you think about God things?
Once in a while, I would just lay there, trying (and failing) to wrap my little mind around eternity, and the thought of spending forever (forever!!!) in heaven.
I wonder when that child-like wonder of God began to fade from my heart. I think it happened so gradually that I didn’t really notice until I found myself in a pretty dark place, full of anxiety and apathy.
There were bright moments, too. Moments when God’s beautiful, relentless, and patient grace broke through my hardened heart and ignited a passion for Christ again. Then the enthusiasm would dim as I turned away again, caught up in busyness and worry.
But God is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. He didn’t give up on me.
Earlier this semester I found myself at Trinity for Centerpoint. I had the privilege of worshipping with others who were praising God with heartfelt abandon. The Holy Spirit began stripping away my indifference towards God.
In the coming weeks, I felt newfound excitement for engaging difficult texts in the Bible. I experienced the indescribable comfort of being completely known, understood, and loved by God. My heart broke in a new way for those who are living without the hope that comes through Christ. I rededicated myself to pursuing the counter-cultural lifestyle that Christians are called to.
Don’t get me wrong, I do not have this all figured out. Actually, most days I feel pretty confused, and I’m more aware than ever that I have a lot to learn. I’m realizing that my sinful heart is even more twisted than I ever imagined.
At the same time, though, I’m so in awe of our perfect God. God is indescribably glorious and wonderful. Psalm 145:5-7 states this far more eloquently than I ever could:
5 They speak of the glorious splendor of your majesty
and I will meditate on your wonderful works.
6 They tell of the power of your awesome works
and I will proclaim your great deeds.
7 They celebrate your abundant goodness
and joyfully sing of your righteousness.
I don’t have a pretty ending to this story yet. But I’ve decided that my difficult experiences don’t have to be resolved before I share them with others. For now, I want to invite others into the messiness and pray for a child-like heart that marvels openly at God’s goodness.