Today I am over at Karissa Knox Sorrell’s blog for her “Where I Found God” series. Karissa is a friend I met through blogging and a woman I’ve come to greatly admire. She describes herself as a faith-wrestler and I strongly identify with that as I struggle to work out my own faith. She is also a poet, a mother, an educator, an Orthodox Christian, and a beautiful, thoughtful writer. Karissa has been featuring weekly guest posts about encounters with God outside of the church. I am honored to be contributing to this series today.
The room was dark except for the stage lights illuminating the guitarist and the rest of his band. The air hummed with the trailing notes of the bass and with the murmurs of the worshippers, each muttering their own fervent praises as they swayed, lifted their hands, or bounced up and down on their toes.
The pastor bounded onto the stage, beaming. He closed his eyes and raised his hands in front of the congregation. His voice boomed out over the din as he told us to “close our eyes and feel the presence of God in this place.” I closed my eyes. I tried to breathe the Holy Spirit in through my nose. I wanted to gulp him in by the lungful – I wanted him to take up residence in that space between my chest and my belly—but I lost that sense of fullness with each exhale. I opened my eyes and looked around the room. They seemed so sure that God was with us, but I couldn’t seem to find him.
I’ve spent my whole life in the church, but I haven’t always found God there.
I’ve found God in words.
Read the rest of this post here.