I’ve never been asked to write about my deepest relationship. It feels almost too complicated, or even sacred, to even try to put into words. But, I have a tongue to speak, and fingers to type, and a mind to think, so I will try.
To understand where I am with God, I’ll start with where I have been.
Distant. Cold. detached. Lonely. Hurting.
Longing.
Wanting him. Wanting his presence.
I always wanted him. I wanted to feel his love. I knew there was more than what I felt or experienced. I just couldn’t seem to grasp it. Something kept me far away. My sense of failure, inadequacy, or hurt and anger, I guess. I couldn’t bridge the gap.
Then, he was always up. Up there, watching, but it felt like his face was turned away.
My pride. My ego. My pain. Blindness. Selfishness? Something always seemed to create a gap between me and him that my longing and trying couldn’t close.
I remember the turning of my heart, again (September 2023). My world was on fire, excruciating. Pain and loss. Hopelessness. Crushing darkness.
I remember his light began to pierce through that darkness. Flooding. Overwhelming. Something began to flood my heart that I had never felt before. It lifted me, it felt light, I felt like I could run on legs that were new when I knew I had begun to hear his gentle voice in my very inner being.
I remember my heart turning towards him.
I experienced his love in a way I never knew love. (February 2024)
It was gentle, not harsh. It was kind, sensitive, pulling me in. It was tender and compassionate. It was powerful and intoxicating, energizing, nourishing, and absolutely life giving.
I began to experience his presence in my thoughts. I began to become more attuned to hear the gentle presence of his voice in my mind, the push in my heart, and burning in my soul. Joy came. Peace came. The sadness, the pain didn’t all end, but it was fully engulfed in the richest moments with him.
Now, I experience him in many ways. Most powerfully, most intimately, when I am alone. Often, when I am feeling pain, loneliness, and grief, I feel his powerful presence like something surrounding me, engulfing me, washing over me.
I hear a gentle whisper “you are mine”.
I feel a warmth flood my soul and my veins like I never knew.
I experience him in the eyes of the people I look into. I hear their stories. As I see their pain, longing, their hope. He gently pushes me to go towards them, to listen, and speak a word of encouragement that he brings to my mind. Usually this comes from something I have read in his word.
I feel his presence when his spirit is moving powerfully. It brings a warmth and chills at the same time, even goosebumps, and I know immediately he is present and stirring up something powerfully in the moment and I am able to be a part of that. It brings a flood of joy to me. It is always, undoubtedly, him.
I have trouble quieting my mind, very often, to be sensitive to what he is wanting to tell me. I often journal, asking a question, and waiting to see what word (s) will come to my mind. I know they are his when they are truth, life, light, not harsh or critical, but gentle.
To me, he almost always feels near, ready to receive me when I turn to him. No matter how I am feeling. But it is in the quiet spaces that I experience him the most intimately.
I feel his peace, a confident rush, when I am moving towards what he is pressing on my heart.
I feel tension, wrestling, when I push back against where he may moving me to be.
I feel frustrated when I ask him to speak, to give me directions, and I receive silence. Or, perhaps not silence, but not a direct answer. I still don’t understand that. If it is a complicated matter, I do not usually feel the movement or voice of a yes or no answer, but something like “please me” or “honor me”.
I think he gives me a lot of freedom in what I choose. And when I mess up, he’s never harsh on me. He’s always gentle, sometimes firm, but still gentle and guides me to hear, almost always, “you are my son, I love you”.
How can I explain my relationship with God? It burns like fire. It showers me with overwhelming joy and euphoria. It brings me to my knees in weeping tears. It floods my emotions. It explodes my senses, and quiets my mind.
I see and experience his presence and where he has been and where he is moving each day. Small things. Small comments from a stranger. Light streaming through the green leaves. A smile. Eyes that sparkle. A soul and body crushed in pain. Even in the darkest places, the signs of his presence are visible and known. His grace to keep a heart beating and breath in the lungs.
I feel confident when I go to him and walk beside him.
I feel hesitant, doubtful, and anxious when I step away.
I ask to see his face. I ask for him to show himself to me particularly when I am discouraged, when I need help or hope or confidence. And he always does, usually through people and experience or words with them.
The deepest experience of him is on my knees, alone, crying out. Or walking alone in a quiet beautiful space outside.
I’ve felt him right beside me the strongest under the oaks and on the island beach.
How do I know it is him? Sometimes, I’m not sure. I’m not always sure when he is speaking or guiding me. I feel a small push sometimes, or something that keeps coming up within me, that might be his spirit prickling something inside. I can silence it. I can distract myself from it. But I know I don’t want to do that because I feel it may be him pushing me gently towards where he is guiding.
I feel that he often uses people, who affirm the same message, to gently guide me.
The easiest way for me to describe my relationship with God, to me, is as a son is to a good, good father.
I ask him. I need him. I bring my needs to him. I want him to be next to me. With him, the usual things don’t scare me. My doubts run. He protects me. I feel his strong presence, as a child would to a father. And when I hurt, I cry out “daddy, please take this”.
He is easy to come to. He is not distant, but near. He is not harsh, but gentle and kind. He reaches deep in me and brings a deep, confident comfort and assurance that says “I am right here”
The best, is that I can go to him each day, whenever and wherever I want. For me the best is the quiet morning or the evening walk. That is when we most often talk. And there he says,
“I am right here”.
Alex Gerber
gerberxc@gmail.com