Alien Drums

The presence of God, how can the human mind comprehend it. It would seem impossible. 

Christianity teaches that in the believer both the Spirit of God and the reality of sin reside. The experience of the believer affirms the internal battle between good and evil, right and wrong; and the testimony of the Apostle Paul confirms it in Scripture. How can it be?

The simple answer, of course, is that we are still becoming, we are not what we will be, there will be a day when the Spirit of God has completely vanquished the spirit of sin and rebellion within us. Despite the ongoing spiritual battle, we get glimpses of what spiritual victory will be like as we experience it in small doses.

The temptations of sin begin to pale as our minds detect hints of the presence of God. They come in varied forms. For me, one of those hints through the years has been the sense that something is out there for me, some destiny if you will. Not necessarily a destiny of greatness, but a destiny of purpose.

And I have sensed that God held that destiny, held it out like a carrot dangled before me, not in a cruel, tempting way, but in loving, coaxing manner. He has been trying to lead me. Now, at age 51, the picture of that destiny is much clearer, though not complete.

One thing I have learned is that we should not grasp for our destiny, we should grasp for our God, for His presence, even though it is something we cannot completely comprehend.

I sat in a church auditorium with my team of nine-year-old soccer players the other day waiting for the team to be introduced and take the stage at the end of the indoor season. I’m watching the stage and everything is clear, then everything went to blur. Because it had happened before, I knew what was going on. The left lense on my glasses had fallen out.

Screw lost, sitting in semi-darkness, there was no chance of repair. I had two options — remove glasses completely or keep on the one-lense version. I quickly experimented with both.

No glasses gave me the benefit of consistency, but my eyes are really bad so this approach left everything beyond eight inches in serious blur.

The one-lense approach played tricks on my mind. Even when I shut my left, un-lensed eye seeing was difficult. Depth perception askew.

I decided on the one-lense approach. With hundreds of kids and adults watching, I stood as my team was introduced and sent them running forward as each player’s name was called. Then my name. I jogged forward (some coaches had walked but I’m no wuss). I approached the steps to the platform. I shut my left eye, concentrated and made it up without stumbling.

Standing in the bright lights with my team, I wondered if people in the crowd could tell a lense was missing. I could imagine the thoughts. (What is this idiot doing without a lense in his glasses.) I stayed to the right of my team so I could look toward them and sort of hind my missing eye, I mean lense.

Applause. We headed down the other side. Closed left eye. Focused. Made it. Found seat in semi-darkness without too much problem.

Those of us who wear glasses tend to take them for granted until something happens to them. They become a part of us.

I think aspects of the spiritual life can be that way, as well. We can take prayer for granted until we imagine what life would be like without being able to call on the Source of all being. We can take fellowship for granted until we are alone. We Christians can take Christ for granted until we try to live life with no example of right living and no means of deliverence from our own shortcomings.

Blindness, quite simply, helps people appreciate seeing. I do not want to be physically or spiritually blind. People do not have a choice when it comes to physical blindness, and many are wonderfully able to develop other aspects of their being in order to live happy and productive lives. Spiritual blindess is different. We have a choice. I want to see.