Have you seen God?

I have a new friend in my client's 4-year-old preschool class. Her name is Jordyn, and I am convinced that she will become a speech pathologist one day. She is absolutely fascinated by my client. I, of course, use this to my advantage and encourage the 2 of them to socialize and be friends.

My first memory of Jordyn dates back to the fall, probably the first time I started shadowing my client. I was standing in Fellowship Hall of the church where the preschool is held, and my client's class was lining up after indoor recess. I was suddenly startled by a blood curteling scream. Someone was yelling at the children. I quickly whipped around, expecting to see an adult. But no one was there, just children frantically trying to line up and go to snack time. I was bothered, as I couldn't figure out who was yelling. Then, my eyes were drawn downward. A tiny girl, dressed all in pink with bouncing golden brown curls continued to yell "Come on guys! Line up!" in the loudest and most abusive sounding voice I'd ever heard. That was Jordyn.

Recently, Jordyn runs up to me as I walk into the classroom and declares "I'm going to stay by your side the whole time you're here!" And she does.

Last week, during snack time, I was sitting in between my client and Jordyn. My client was babbling and pointing at the ceiling. I asked my client," What do you see up there?"

Jordyn tapped my leg and said, "I think he sees God!" I smiled to myself, then decided to talk to Jordyn a little more about her comment.
"Maybe so," I replied. "Jordyn, have you ever seen God?"
"Yes!" she stated, with confidence. "He used to come to my church in Indiana."
"Oh, wow! You are very lucky! Did God talk to you?" I continued to probe.
"Yes. He spoke a lot. I don't remember what He said, but He was there!"
This made my friday.

Sometimes I wish that we could see the world with this child-like innocence. In all reality, God does speak to us. Sometimes at church, sometimes while we're sipping our morning coffee during a blizzard in traffic. If only we were listening, seeing that He is there, and obeying and responding to His word. I hope we can all meet with God like Jordyn.

Test

The fizzy feeling of a redbull tingled as it trickled slowly down my throat, through my esophagus, and into my stomach, where I lost feeling and track of it. My palms perspired. My eyes felt plastered open due to the mass amounts of caffeine consumed. My mind felt drowsy, as it had been drilled and drilled; as if I attempted to jackhammer information into it. My stomach knotted, redbull and all, as the professor walked up the aisle, smiled at me, and handed me the thick packet. Here we go. Tests are out.

Until recently, in my life as a full time student, these are the only tests I'd ever experienced. I've heard about others being tested (namely Matt Chandler in his battle with cancer), and bible characters dealing with spiritual tests (i.e., Paul). I knew these were possibilities in my life. But I'd never felt tested before. Until the past 6 months.

Looking back, I can see that my faith was tested. This test lasted longer than the typical hour and a half I'm used to. And there were no essays, and for sure no word banks. This was real. This was life.

The target was something I have worried about for a long time. I think that's where tests start… worry. It's an easy target; something you're clearly already sensitive about. An easy target to make you lose faith. And that's where it started. It began slowly, making small choices. Ignoring the still, small voice. Thinking I would come around and obey later. Putting it off.

I'd prepared for this test. Not an all nighter, no. I prayed. I read the Bible. I knew the facts. But like a shy freshman with test anxiety, the information flew out of my mind. It was as if it was never there.

2 short weeks later, I would know how I did. A concrete number telling me whether or not I passed or failed. Telling me whether I was good enough.

Life tests don't get grades, but I find it easier to know whether or not you pass or fail. You feel it. You see it. You just know.

I failed. I took life into my own hands. I refused to relinquish control. The test was a test of my faith. I let it go. But there is good news. I'm broken but being rebuilt. His strength shines through my broken weakness. I find comfort there. I find grace.