Original Post Published 1/24/13
For some reason that I can’t quite explain, 4-year-old Rowyn has decided that Heaven = Outer Space. There is no hesitation in his mind. When he talks about going to Outer Space, it’s to drop in on God and say, “Hello.” Preferably in a rocket. That, he says, is where he will go when he dies to live again forever.
Who am I, mere mortal that I am, to try to straighten it all out for him? LOL. The book of Daniel tells us about angels on a physical journey from Heaven to Earth, waylaid by demons so that they arrived seemingly “late” to answer the prayers of the faithful. For all I know, those demons were hiding behind an asteroid orbiting Jupiter. *shrugs*
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The Milky Way over the
West Virginia hills |
But it came up in my little brain in response to some wonderful conversations and books I was reading yesterday. The conversations joked about how the particular group involved is made of black sheep, it seems. Or at least, would be dubbed so by a prominent few. We like reality in our fiction. We believe that redemption is greatest when the sin was staggering–after all, who will love the forgiver more, he who is forgiven much or little? We believe in thinking, in living our life in this world even if we’re not of it, in refusing the neatly bottled answers that are often tossed around in Christian circles.
And yes, that leads some of us to rant and rail on occasion. Why, we ask, do our brothers and sisters in the Church judge us for following Him into the wilderness? Isn’t that where He went? Where He ordered us to go??
Then, in something I was reading by my good friend and WhiteFire author
Christine Lindsay, she quotes C. S. Lewis, and it resonated:
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It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite Joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
You know what that hammered home to me? That we’re so very small. Sometimes, that makes us petty. Sometimes, that makes us close ourselves into a cozy little box. Sometimes it makes us judge–and I’m not talking just about the ones in the box judging those outside, I’m talking about the opposite too. We all want to be accepted for who we are–and when someone else is different, we feel that as judgment. Don’t we?
But what Lewis pinpointed so beautifully there is that God is bigger than that. God is a God of the biggest dreams, the grandest ideas. He’s a thinking man’s God and an infantile-minded man’s God. The God of the broken and of the fixer. He’s a God who says, “You want the world? Foolish mortal–I’m offering you heaven.”
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The Dirty Devil River
photo by Seth G. Cowdery |
Or as Rowyn would say, Outer Space. 😉 And that’s true too, isn’t it? He’s the God of the universe, of the infinite.
But how often do we forget that, as Pascal expounded on in a Pensee, the infinite goes both directions? The infinitely great, and the infinitely small. So often, we pick one direction and focus on that, because that’s where our interests lie.
I love–absolutely love–that I serve a God with no limits. A God who can touch hearts through the sweetest stories as well as through the grittiest. A God who doesn’t say we must change before we can enter His house, but who invites us in as we are and says, “I’ve been waiting for you. I have a job for you to do, and those quirks of yours will make you a perfect fit.”
I don’t know about you, but I serve one amazing, all-out, no-holds-barred God. He meets me in the grime, and He promises me the galaxies. He tells me that there’s nothing I can dream that’s too big…but that sometimes He wants to give me something even bigger than the corporeal, than the physical. He’s a God who says, “Go ahead. Reason. Ask questions. Explore the what-ifs. I’ll be there too.”
So for today, in all gratefulness, I say, “My God, who art in Outer Space, I set your name aside as holy. Establish your kingdom, and do your will, O Lord. Not just up in the stars…but right down here in the muck.”
Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award winning author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, she’s homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary.