In the city, I feel like I’m close to the heartbeat of God.
The rhythms, the constancy, the coming and going, the busyness.
In the country, I feel like I’m in God’s lungs.
The open spaces and the wind and the trees and feeling unbounded.
I’ve seen God in the Rocky Mountains. I’ve seen God in Honduras poverty. I’ve seen God in Minnesota winters and Madison liberals and suburban conservatives and Calvinists and Anabaptists and rap music and coffee shops and basketball courts.
I’ve seen parts of God in all kinds of places and people and thoughts and emotions.
I think God is bigger than I realize. That’s one thing I love about her.
Whenever I feel like I have a grasp on her, or have a pretty solid understanding of her, there’s always more.
More complexity. More love. More peace. More strength.
That used to make me upset. I wanted to know everything about God.
Now, I’m glad I don’t know everything. I’m embracing all the mystery and deepness.
When I think about how dumb I can be, I don’t want a God that fits neatly inside my head or heart.
I want a love deeper than my emotions can experience.
I want a teacher smarter than I could ever be.
I want a strength that can’t be broken.
Not a God that contradicts comprehension, but a God bigger than comprehension.
And in Jesus, I have that. With Jesus there is always more goodness and grace and power, and there is always more mystery and complexity.
So, I don’t want to pretend like I know everything about God anymore. Because I don’t. And I don’t want to try to know everything. Because I can’t. Now, I just want to go deeper, embracing as much of God’s fullness as I possibly can fit inside me, and falling more in love every step of the way.
God is much bigger than I realize. And I’m content with that.