Why is it that the distance of God can be more comfortable than His presence sometimes? That underneath it all, sometimes that grace-thing is a little hard to swallow? When the wounds of the world expose a God that does not come through as we planned and the grace in His quietness somehow spills out of the box we try to carry it in?
Sometimes our probe for doubt trumps the logic in reaching for trust, and distance satisfies the argument.
If the winter-weary blossoms of life feel more natural than warmth…when the caustic winds of reality, barren in the nakedness of dark days laden heavy with snow settle on your brittle branches, may I beg you one thing?
Don’t stand in your goosebumps.
The same God who sees you shivering in the winter distance due to doubt, shame, disappointment, woundedness, bitterness…neglected with your flesh exposed, maybe even bleeding, is the very same God who sent you Jesus. Jesus, sent to be stripped down to nakedness at the cross, simply because He wanted to clothe you in the warmth of His love and light. The very same God who called out to Adam and Eve in their helpless exposure and lovingly covered them in animal skins knows where you are and delights in the thought of walking next to you.
When grace leaks out of the small boxes we carry it in, it doesn’t fall into a puddle that evaporates. His grace is not simply liquid, but wind and air and fire and water and heaven and earth and His love invites us to dive, swim, breathe, drink and blaze in the heat of His mercy.
That is grace.
Pull on your winter boots. Just one step closes the distance.
…and it’s much more comforting than comfortable.