Expectations: God is Weird

Time alone. Sounds good…peaceful…thought-provoking…terrifying. I recently committed to spending some planned alone time. My purpose for doing so was to pray and think while, I hoped, it was God’s job to provide some inspiration during my sabbatical from the rest of the world. I arrived at my somewhat secluded get-away spot with my Bible, a guitar, a book, a notebook a toothbrush, my mosquito netting (because one can never be too careful or prepared; I was a “Brownie” once, before I got kicked out) and my expectations. I was tired from the work-a-day week and unsure what the next however many hours would hold for me. It is difficult not to place expectations on a time like that. Expectations, whether I want them to or not, just seem to run amok in my brain and seem to unfailingly escape the paper cup I try and trap those little buggers with. I mean, I wanted God to speak to me (not audibly, because, let’s face it, that would be a little spooky, especially in a somewhat secluded spot). I wanted him to tell me what to do and how to do it. But, I know that approaching God with all that demanding kind of thing doesn’t usually go over all that well. Although, Jacob would probably have suggested a wrestling match if that was the kind of response I expected.

So, I set about the business of prayer. For me, that took the form of a walk. I seem to pray much better if I am in motion. Prayer is also greatly helped by being in and around a beautiful natural setting. While not entirely necessary, it is nice. When I talk to God, I tend to ask a lot of questions (probably that journalist in me cropping up). Remembering that I’m not expecting an auditory response, I believe that when I seem to start answering my own questions I am hearing from God. Now, I know what you’re thinking, and it’s a good question: “How do you know you’re not just making this stuff up?” I don’t. But, I do think I know when the answer is just too weird or too out of the clear blue for me to have thought of it. I ask some more questions like, “Does this line up with scripture?” or “Does this fit with what I know about God’s character?” If the answer to these types of questions is “yes” then I can be fairly certain that walking in that direction is alright.

My walk proved to be fruitful. By that I don’t mean that I walked away feeling like a spiritual giant, just the opposite really. While praying and asking my questions, I tried really hard to remember what I’m studying in Matthew that the ones who know that they approach God’s presence with nothing of any value that doesn’t belong to God already are the ones who get to see and experience the kingdom of heaven. The ones who mourn their shortcomings and sinfulness will be comforted, and the ones who humble themselves before God are the ones who get to see what God does on Earth and with people. As I juggled those concepts in my mind, trying not to think about how often I fail in all of those areas, God met my expectations in his usual weird way.

Let me just say for the record, God is weird…all the time! Good, too, but weird. I mean weird in the best possible sense. God just refuses to be put into the box (or paper cup) of my expectation. For the most part, the walk and talk were relatively uneventful. No lightning, no fiery columns, no fireworks, no pyrotechnics of any kind (although I think God goes in for that sort of thing, really). The weird part is that, as far as the praying goes, the walk was pretty much the bulk of it for all my time spent in seclusion.

When it was getting dark, I came back to the cabin, sat down, and fell into a pretty deep sleep for about an hour. When I awakened, I got out the guitar and sang and worshipped for a while. (There was one silent moment broken by the sound of the screened door opening outside the door right next to where I was sitting when I thought I was about to be killed by an axe murderer, but when I got up the nerve to leave my catatonic state of staring at the door waiting for my doom to come, I found that it was just the wind that had swung the door open.) Against my self-imposed rule, I took one phone call from a friend in crisis, did a little reading, and then went to sleep (under the protection of God and my mosquito netting).

I woke up rested and somewhat disappointed that wrestling wasn’t part of the deal. I guess my expectation was for more drama, more of the passionate struggle to find out what God wanted from me. I packed up the car and decided to drive for awhile. I prayed and talked some more. I didn’t get the drama, but I did get direction, more of a focus in my prayer, really. The rest of the weekend held bits and pieces of the resolution for the issue which prompted the alone time. It’s not done with, but I’m learning that some things are just never “done”. In his weird way, God met, is meeting, and is exceeding my expectations all at the same time. I told you God is weird.