I have treated the God in my gut like a long distance friend and made an acquaintance out of his Word. As I inhale my sin and try to push out the blood that ran from the cross all those years ago; I find that it runs in my very veins now. And when the ancient hymn hits my ears – it is well with my soul – MY soul feels more like a prisoner of war. And the final verse – my sin, not in part but the whole – seems like the delusions of a misguided lyricist.
With every breath that I take of this earth’s air, I feel more like we are one in the same. Spinning in a constant circle around the Son without ever touching it’s hands and feet – the way Thomas did when he doubted. If we are to believe that the invisible third of the Trinity is embedded inside of our bones like the marrow that makes them up, we have to find our own way of making him tangible. And when we understand the depravity of our souls and the gravity of our salvation, we understand that our God is a loyal, though enormous, companion.
And although he is indisputably great, he is surprisingly small. I have forgotten how little my God can be. Like the wind, a perfect presence fills the tiniest cracks of my life and guides me into change. And to remember that he is there – I remember that without the glory at the center of the galaxy, we would drift away into nothingness. And a song plays in my chest and this time I believe that it is true – Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine…born of his Spirit, washed in his Blood.