God, where are you?

Photo by Ganapathy Kumar on Unsplash

My Quest to Find the Moon

Last summer, I took a course called Curriculum and Methods of Science as part of the graduate teacher certification program I'm working on.  I have always been a high-achieving student, but for as long as I can remember, science hasn't been especially interesting to me.  Let's just say I retained very little from all of the science classes I took over the years.  It may sound silly, but when I learned about the phases of the moon, it was as if I was hearing it for the first time.

One of the requirements of the class was that we each keep a moon journal.  For one month, we had to go outside every night and record what the moon looked like onto a journaling sheet.  I obviously realized the moon could appear full, crescent, half, and so forth, but what I never bothered to pay attention to, was the specific pattern to the phases of the moon.  This activity helped us better understand those phases, and served as an example of an activity we could assign to our own students.

moon journal page

The moon journal assignment sounded easy enough, but it turned out to be a huge issue for me!  First of all, I had to remember to go outside every single night, when it was dark enough to see the moon, and twirl around looking at the sky, in my pajamas, trying to find the moon.

When I say trying to find the moon, I mean it was a challenge.  There were many nights I would go outside and NOT see the moon.  Even on the nights that I knew, according to my new understanding of the lunar phases, that I should see it, sometimes it wouldn't be there.  I would text friends in the class, and my mom (she is that person that reminds everyone to go outside at 3 am to watch the meteor shower), and ask them if they'd seen the moon that night.  I would ask things like:  Does the moon even exist anymore?  Where is the moon?  Is this some sort of huge practical joke?  Am I going crazy? 

I became obsessed with finding the moon.  I kept bringing it up at class, even after other classmates said they didn't see it either, reasoning that it must be the weather or something.  I just couldn't let it go.  I was extremely agitated that my assignment was to record what the moon looked like, and I could not even find it most of the time.  When I turned in my paper after the month, it had notes all over it like the questions above, and exclamations of joy when I finally saw the moon again.

It's been over a year, and I am a little less obsessed with the moon, but not by much.  I still find myself looking for it whenever I'm out at night, and feel pretty aggravated when I don't see it.  When I do find the moon, I honestly let out a sigh of relief and feel a little tension leave my body.  Oh, there you are.  

My Search for God

Much like my interest in science, it took a lot longer for me to make the connection between my search for the moon, and my search for God, than it should have.  I just realized yesterday, when I caught myself looking up for the moon, that I was finally starting to find God again, and how much the journey reminded me of that stinking moon journal!

For far too long, I could not see God, feel God, or hear God.  Nothing. Radio Silence.

To be fair, there were many hints of his working in my life, but many times I just didn't want to acknowledge them.  I was angry that I had counted on God since I was old enough to believe in his existence, and now, when I needed him most, he had let me down.  You can argue with me about the validity of those feelings all you want, that God didn't let me down, and so on, but that's what I felt, and I was not going to be convinced otherwise.  I wanted to find God, but I didn't know how to, or I couldn't make myself, find him.

I knew God was there, and that other people could find him. Why couldn't I?

I am so thankful that I have started to find God again.  I never gave up hope, but I did question my faith a lot.  I wish I could pinpoint exactly what happened to change things for me.  There have been many people praying for me and I have done so many different things to find healing, so it's hard to highlight just one event.

One story does stand out though.  I am sad to admit that I did not sing one single word during worship at church for over a year.  Me, the gal who loves singing more than almost anything.  I just stood there silently.  But when a special guest at a women's conference sang the song, "I am not Alone," and the words finally made their way through my lips, the healing tears streamed down my face. (listen here:  I Am Not Alone by Kari Jobe)

I also wish that I could confidently say that my heart is completely healed and that I can now find God each and every time that I look.  While I don't think I'm there yet, what I can say, is that I am so relieved that I know and believe he is there.  The anger and hurt are starting to dissipate and I now see light more and more. 

Just like I may not always find the moon when I look up at night, I don't always have that visual or tangible proof that God is there.  But I have learned enough about the phases of the moon to know that it didn't just disappear simply because I can't see it from my front yard.  I also understand that if I don't see it one night, or even several in a row, before long, it will be visible again.  I'm trying apply that same understanding to my relationship with God.  I may not find him today, but he will, without a doubt, show himself again if I just keep looking up.

link to listen to "I am Not Alone" by Kari Jobe:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfveawSAHJA