To simply breathe.

To be a witness can invoke a wide variety of emotions and reactions. When one witnesses a magical sunset or the new growth of spring’s blossoms, awe and curiosity take us back to the purity of childhood. To stand beside something so grand, yet simple, is to physically and emotionally feel both warmth and wonder. “How does that happen? What do we do with this?” our body asks. Instantly move towards action; taking a photo and sending it to a waiting audience, or stand by paralyzed by it’s beauty?

When we witness something, there is often action that follows, whether externally or internally. In relation to the Spirit of God, what happens when He becomes a witness to both the good and bad of our world? Does he spring towards healing or stand by stagnantly…and how does this impact our relationship with Him?

Shelley Rambo tells us that “Jurgen Moltmann claims that there is one constant and uncontested sign of the Spirit’s presence: where there is life, the Spirit of God is there.”

Yet what happens in the moments and days and months when there is no life? When the ground opens up, tulips fall back into their shells, and life hides out in the dirt until the next season of growth? We logically know decay must happen for progression to occur, yet the trauma of living within this middle ground is what each of us have to manage (in some capacity) in every single day, conversation, and relationship.

In this middle ground, as we talked about in our group discussion, self is separated from body, just as trauma pulls you away from your own senses. When you have no connection with self, you are stifled in being able to connect with others; God included. While God may be of comfort here, the balance of living between life and death is often overwhelming and the comfort of dissociation is quite welcoming.

Yet decay happens. For our environmental well-being we prescribe controlled burning to kill the earth; welcoming fresh growth while hoping to enhance our ecosystem. For our personal well-being we walk into therapeutic relationships, kneel as we seek help and healing, and say no in efforts to take care of ourselves. This surrendering of life, of understanding, and of a solution brings us to a place of vulnerability. In this space intimacy occurs as we accept the middle earth of our days, where no answer is needed and the primal breath of God persists.