Bits for Sunday, September 16, 2007

There’s a line in a Little House on the Prairie episode that always bothered me – because I thought it was really bad theology. Not that I base my theology on the lines of television programs, of course, but I’m sure there are those who do, so such lines always make me cringe. Anyway, this line was from the episode titled The Lord is my Shepherd (threw that in there just for those who still like to pick on me for my over-knowledge of Little House episode titles). That was the episode – a two-parter, actually – where Laura’s baby brother dies, and she thinks it’s her fault. This is where the irritating theology comes in. Laura goes to the church to talk to Reverend Alden and he says to her “the closer you are to God, the more likely He is to listen.” She takes that literally and climbs a mountain (which just mysteriously appeared the prairie, you understand) and tries to get God to send back the baby and take her instead.

Yesterday that line came back to me while I sat on a pier, indulging in the sights and sounds that come only from being on the water. While I still find that statement untrue, I think perhaps the reverse of it might just have something. At least for me. The closer I am to God, the more likely I am to listen.
For the last two years, I’ve gone to this particular lake in September with the ladies’ group of a friend's church. This year, the group did another activity in lieu of the lake retreat, and by mid-August, I found myself already missing the God-connection I always get when I go away to that place. So this year, she and I went without her church group. We just picked a Saturday, loaded up my car with all sorts of random “connect with God” tools and headed for the lake.

Each year, I really try to go with an open heart, ready to hear whatever it is God wants to say to me. But this year, I didn’t even have the guidance of the speaker, the music, and the workshops. It was a wide open day, and I had no idea what God might want to do or say. But I did go ready to listen. And somehow, being out in the beauty of creation like that makes it easier for me to do so.

Yesterday was a beautiful day – the perfect blend of sun and clouds. But we’ve not gone quite this late in September before, and it was just a little bit chilly. In fact, toward the end of the day, we received some strange looks from people who walked by and saw us stretched out on lawn chairs, wearing jackets and bundled up under blankets. I suppose it did look strange. But we weren’t there for a tan. We were there to hear water lapping against the pier and hear the strange calls of birds that don’t live in our town, because we don’t have water. We were there to admire the beautiful lake homes and watch the leisurely drifting of the fishing boats, occasionally interrupted by the hurry of a speedboat.


I didn’t have an agenda other than enjoying the day. Part of the time, I just sat on a bench on the pier, wrapped up in my trusty kitten blanket, drinking coffee, eating peanut butter M&Ms and thinking that life doesn’t get much more perfect. I felt the breeze (which sometime bordered on a chilly wind) blowing across the water toward shore and I thought of the verses in Genesis when God was busy creating and the Spirit of God moved upon the waters…and I wondered if it felt anything like that. I squinted in the sun and reflected on the year that had passed since I last sat on that same bench – and realized again that God is good. In the good and the bad, He is good.


I pulled out my rather massive God-journal, and wrote, because no day is complete for me unless it includes some writing. And I love nothing more than to write in a new place – to create a memory of a day when I put pen to paper in a spot besides my desk or my bed or my couch.


Later in the day, I spread out under a tree and read verses, studying a portion of Scripture that I never remember reading before. I put the first words in a brand new journal reserved for a special occasion that I’ve decided has officially arrived, and enjoyed uninterrupted moments alone with God.

God wasn’t any more present at that lake than He would have been on my own property, but for me, there’s something special about going away with the intent of meeting with Him. There’s something wonderful about having a particular place that has never failed to bring about a special meeting with God. There’s something comforting about driving away to a remote location knowing that I will come back refreshed. Because the closer I am to God, the more likely I am to listen.