In Your presence

Whenever my husband leaves the apartment, our son stands in front of the door and cries. This isn't just a whining whimper of a cry, but a wail, birthed in the depths of his soul, which can go on and on, and often does. He is SO overwhelmed with sadness that, sometimes, only my husband's return restores peace to his heart. I didn't understand why this was happening, until I was walking behind them, as we were leaving our apartment. Being in his daddy's arms, and having me so close by, he looked at my husband, reached out to me, and began to laugh. His laugh started as a belly laugh, and ended with him squealing in absolute delight. Nothing happened except the three of us taking a short walk, but he was filled to the point of outburst with gladness, just being able to be with us.

It was then that the Lord brought to mind David's words in Psalm 16, verse 11, "You make known to me the path of life; in Your presence there is fullness of joy, and at your right hand, pleasures forevermore." This revelation wasn't just had by David, as in Psalm 84, a son of Korah says, "For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked." These men knew something about the presence of God that I'm only learning in how my son behaves in our presence.

When I think about when I go to God for something, it’s usually when a problem comes up, not for fulfillment of joy or for pleasure. For joy and pleasure, I turn to a myriad of things, like Netflix, food, social media... All of these things are well and good and pleasurable, and I think contributes to the happiness of everyday life. My worship pastor calls them “amusing.”

We tend to think of amusing as funny, but it also means to be kept in a state of being charmed, engrossed and absorbed, with ones attention diverted by humor. To remain distracted and/or entertained. If I were honest with myself, I would say most of the things I say are joyful in my life are just entertaining. I spend my week being amused, letting a deep conversation or a soul-filling moment with my friends or family slip in when I finally get off my phone, or turn off the television. I meet with God when something comes up and in my brief bedtime prayers, or while I hastily flip through my church’s devotional or my mom’s group book, claiming I didn't have time to read until after my son goes to bed, all while not confessing I had time to watch the first season of Dinosaurs in 2 days.

And then Sunday comes. On Sunday, I sit in service and am forced to focus. Forced to quiet my heart and sit in His Presence, and forsake amusement. I am asked to invite the Spirit, while some of the most talented people I know sing blessing over us, proclaiming the love of our God. Many of us stand with hands raised, hearts open, ready to receive His presence. In those moments, tears unbiddenly slide down my face, and I lose all ability to keep up with the song. I tell people worship in sign language because God is not interested in my “joyful noise,” but the truth is that I am so filled with His presence, and the joy that comes with it, I lose my capacity of speech, and while my lips might do nothing but tremble, my hands can keep worshiping. His presence fills my soul with such joy that it fills me all the way up to my eyes and pours out of me. I feel so uplifted after leaving church. Probably the best I’ll feel all day, and the best I've felt all week. Do you know that feeling I’m talking about? Where you seriously feel like you just communed with God for the last couple of hours? It’s amazing, isn't it? So why can’t I remember it by the time I get home from work Sunday night? Why do I choose amusement over the fullness of joy?

Paul said that we do what we don’t want to do, and don’t do what we want to. Sounds ridiculous, but God, it’s so true. I think it’s because we associate joy with something we have to work for or create, when, as my little one is teaching me, it’s just about dwelling in the Presence. When I’m around, he’s not 100% focused on me, as he goes about playing with his blocks or trying to figure out his next scheme of how to break into the kitchen, but focus isn't necessarily the same as awareness. He is fully aware of my presence, at all times. If I move, he is on top of me in no time flat, as if to say, “Hey! Don’t leave!” As a mom, I feel like our awareness never turns off, and our focus is always on overdrive, and so we crave moments where we can just shut down. We think streaming show after show or spending hours on social media will relieve us, but at the end, when I've finished a bag of Dove chocolate and I’m dragging myself to bed at 2am, I realize I’m not energized, I’m not happier or less stressed out, and that it was all just temporary reprieve. I’m not saying that reprieve is bad, but I need more than that to function at my highest levels. I need lasting energy. I need joy.

My little one lives, moves and has his being in my and my husband’s presence. He is most fulfilled when we available to express our joy and pleasure to and over him. He is aware of our absence and cries out as though he has an ache, an emptiness in his soul, until he can be secure that we've returned. I pray that God would give me the same desperation for His presence as my little one has for mine.