Coffee, Confession, and Conviction

We sat down and started chatting.
The conversation moved a bit deeper and she confessed with obvious sadness, “I just miss him.”
I clarified, “Miss who?”
“God.”
[silence]
“You miss God?”
She meant it and I had no way to process it.
I believed in God, but this confession shined a light on an empty corner of my soul.
I had never felt something like that — didn’t know how to feel it.
I had a relationship with God, but not the kind of relationship where you would miss the person when they weren’t there.
To miss someone assumes that you had been with them, really known them, and that you noticed and felt when they were close or far.
That might be a bit spooky or out there for some people, but the ancient stories of the Bible point to anything but a distant, uninvolved God.
He is personal and engages in authentic relationships with people.
This person was having what for them was a tough time.
But I just wished I could experience their kind of tough time. Their confession dropped a deeply convicting question into my soul: “Why don’t I miss him?” And the pursuit of that question eventually led to a deep change in my understanding and desire.
God is not simply to be understood, studied, used, obeyed, or even believed-in — just like a father is not. He is to be known, to be lived with, to be missed.
Your tough time could be someone else’s awakening.
Hi, I’m Michael and this is my daily project where I write about diverse ideas.
This is Dose #51. If you like it, please click that little ❤️, leave a comment, and follow me. You can see previous Doses here.
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