Life Without God?

A simple Thanksgiving exercise took me on a rewarding spiritual journey. Our pastor asked us to imagine our lives without God. We did the exercise in our home group and many found it richly satisfying to recall their lives before they came to faith in God and compare it with the life fulfillment they now experience.

I was stumped. I simply couldn’t imagine it. But why couldn’t I just play the game? I guess it felt to me like saying, “Imagine life without your head or your heart. “ It wouldn’t be “life.” Why?

The answer to this question was for me an epiphany! True, as a child I had understood God imperfectly and naively; as a young person I had gone through a difficult period of doubt, and as an adult I have experienced painful times. Yet I have come to deeply believe that, throughout my entire life, always God has always been there surrounding me with his presence and his grace. How could I imagine life without Him?

Like the journey of Bunyan’s Christian, my road has had many twists and turns. As a child I learned to sense God’s grace before I could call it that. I early experienced my mother’s unconditional love. I particularly remember her tender touch and loving voice. There was God! He was looking over me as a child—teaching me of his unconditional love.

In fearful moments my father’s protection was reassuring. As a young child, I remember awakening in a thunderstorm afraid until I heard my father’s laughter and acceptance of the storm as a blessing for the parched earth. His deep voice comforted as his strong arms held me. Through my imperfect father, God prepared me to understand his perfect Heavenly Father care.

As a child my prayers were mainly asking. Perhaps I most directly experienced God in nature, music and the nurturing love of my family and friends. God was singing his love to me in the beauty and mystery of all creation. Through simple Gospel songs and hymns, he touched deep places in my heart beyond concepts my mind could grasp.

The Holy Spirit became known to me as a Person of the Trinity when I was 16. It was an “old-fashioned revival meeting.” And for the first time in my life, sitting in a pew praying, I experienced true sorrow for my sin, to the point of tears and spiritual cleansing. I also experienced the joy and fullness of the Holy Spirit in a life-changing way. After that day, my desire was to tell everyone about the joy of the Lord. I decided to go to Bible College; I was sure God would call me to be another Mary Slessor or to marry a David Livingstone.

In a way Bible College was one of my Palace Beautiful stops on the road. There was time for study, prayer, worship, deep friendship, and closeness to my brothers who were also there looking out for me. Yet it was there I spent time in doubting castle. Bible College seems an unlikely place for such an experience. It was triggered by my studying ideas which did not fit my intellectual framework. But it was focused through debates with Philip who was a declared agnostic. He played the violin and on occasion, I would accompany him on the piano in the music practice rooms. Afterward we would talk about God and life. And I found myself ill equipped to meet his agnostic arguments. We would debate and he would win. Or at least it seemed so to me. My feelings were complicated by the fact that I had a crush on Philip. I remember going to the prayer room at the college afterward many times and pouring out my heart to God. But I heard nothing. It seemed the gates of heaven were bolted shut.

It was also during that year that the evangelist who had impacted my life so greatly as a teen died of a brain tumor. I could not fathom why God would not heal his servant who had brought help and healing to so many. My questions seem to sit out there in space with no ready answer. Yet, even in desperation, I do remember promising God to serve him in spite of my doubts. And somewhere deep down inside I knew that God was there.

I can see now how God’s answers came over time, through my studies but most particularly through a professor who introduced me to C.S. Lewis. As I devoured his books, Lewis was answering the very questions I had been unable to answer. I have loved C.S. Lewis all my life for meeting me at that crucial time.

Still my longings to find “place” and someone to share my life were unmet. I was certainly no Mary Slessor and no David Livingstone had asked me to marry him. Had God forgotten me? A part of the answer came at Seattle Pacific University where I began to deeply enjoy literature and realized that I loved classroom teaching. The classroom became my mission field. In the same week that I signed my first teaching contract, I met my future husband, who also was mentored by reading C.S. Lewis.

I learned to know God in a new way when I met Don. He was--and is-- all kinds of things to me on the journey: my mentor, my companion, my lover, my friend, my partner in ministry, my Faithful, my Hopeful. Our early marriage was a most beautiful period on my journey. I felt God’s loving presence. I knew from the deepest places in my being that God had brought us together and the miracle overwhelmed me with love for my Lord. Another Palace Beautiful!

I realized God in another dimension when God blessed us with children. I distinctly remember calling my mother on the phone days after the birth of our first child. “Mother, now I understand how much you have loved me.” And my heart also sang, “Can it be that God loves me even more than I love this precious gift of a daughter?” I was overwhelmed by amazement and joy. God blessed us with a second daughter and a son. My cup overflowed with joy.

When my children were young, God was evident in my life as I saw the wonder, pain and beauty of life freshly through their eyes. My children asked me hard questions and as I searched for truthful answers, I knew there was nothing more important than answering clearly and honestly. And yet there was mystery. Fresh faith filled my heart even as I fumbled for the right words to contain the mysterious truths. “Where does the fire go when we blow it out?” “Where does God live?” “Does God go on vacation with us?” “Where does he ride?” In the car?” “Will God let me take my pillow to heaven?” “Where is heaven?” “ Is the whole world God’s but He’s just letting us use it?” “Are all the churches God’s house? Why does he have so many different houses?”

I have known deep joys of fulfillment through seeing my children become adults and experiencing their love; experiencing deep lasting long-time friendships; watching students succeed and learn to love God, seeing my husband honored upon his retirement for his work ethic, Christian character and creative accomplishments; and seeing a daughter married to a gifted, loving man of integrity who has brought joy and enrichment to our entire family. He has also given us a beautiful extended family on the other side of the U.S.

I have often reflected on Christ’s words, “In this world, you will have trouble.” I have lived long enough to also experience sad, even tragic, events. Death, broken dreams, disappointments come to us all. And yes, I even met the Giant of Despair. Several times. But, like Christian I had the key of faith in my pocket, even though I momentarily felt unable to use it. My husband, pastors, friends and mentors helped me through these times. Some of my mentors were found in books. One was Richard Foster. When I first read his book, Prayer, the Heart’s True Home, I could authentically pray only the cry of “help.” I wept through his chapter on the prayer of the helpless. Yet even then I was not abandoned of God.

One of my favorite poets, Alfred Lord Tennyson, went through a period over ten years of doubt and despair after the death of his friend. But he came through with a stronger faith in God and critics say he wrote his best poetry after this time. Tennyson penned “Crossing the Bar” when he was in 81 as he and his son passed over the narrow strait that separates the Isle of Wight from England. The sandbar he saw as the barrier between this life and the next. A few days before his death, he requested this poem always be placed at the end of his works. “Sunset and evening star and one clear call for me/And may there be no moaning of the bar/When I put out to sea”…. The poem ends with: “I hope to see my Pilot face to face/ When I have crossed the bar.” In writing about this poem, Tennyson identified the pilot as his Lord and said, “The Pilot has been on board all the while, but in the dark I have not seen Him.”

Life without God? In the dark places of life he has sometimes seemed hidden from me. Other times I have been overwhelmed by the goodness of God and the strength of his presence in my life.

Experience has taught me and by faith I believe that He has been there all along my life’s journey and will be with me until I cross that bar and enter the presence of my Lord.