The Presence of God

My husband is my best (on earth) friend. I love him, and I've not doubted that for a second since our first date. But, like any couple, we drive one another crazy on occasion. So, when he said he was taking a road trip, I was excited. Excited for him. Excited for me. Here is what I thought would happen: 

Scott would take a little road trip. He would have four glorious days of male bonding and I would have four glorious days of peace and quiet. I would eat popcorn for dinner and sit on the deck for days. I would write and clean and turn the music up. I would go to bed when I want, or not at all. And I would, for four glorious days, be free from, "Yo, Babe, can ya do me a favor?"

Here is what really happened:

Scott took a little road trip. Lots of male bonding for him not a whole lot of peace and quiet for me. It was cold and rainy. So, no deck, not for me, not for Mom. Just fourteen hours each day of Mom staring at me whistling -- not a tune, just whistling. All my expectations, out the window. And I really, really, really missed my husband. His chair was empty. There was no smell of coffee in the morning. His truck sat unmoved in the yard. And, despite Mom's perpetual cacophony of noises, the absence of his voice filled the house with silence. It dawned on me that first evening, I missed his presence. His presence has become one with my presence over the years; my presence feels awkward and incomplete without his. His presence, no matter where he is in our home, is what makes it home to me. 

Genesis 3, is the account of Adam and Eve's sin and the ensuing consequences: a curse upon all of humanity and banishment from the Garden. The Garden, a place where everything was as God intended before He spoke it into existence. A place where peace and perfection were more than something to aspire to. A place where God came to His people in the cool of the day, where they enjoyed His presence. Once they chose sin over their relationship with God, they were outside His presence. They could no longer remain in their perfect home where God would come to talk with them; sin stood between them and the God who loved them. The gift of God's tender presence was no longer a given for all of eternity; death was the consequence of sin, death apart from the blessedness of the presence of God. If on that first night without my husband's presence, knowing he would return very soon, I could feel so incomplete and so alone, how did Adam and Eve feel as the sun began to set on that terrible day?

Everyone has sinned. Our sin deserves death. God sent Jesus to be our substitute. If we trust this is true and confess Jesus as Lord, we are saved from the death we deserve and will instead live our lives in the presence of God for all eternity. And that's an incredible gift. If I'm being perfectly honest, the eternity thing is great, but I'm human. Ten years from now can be a difficult concept, much less eternity. But to be in the presence of God today, tomorrow, in the dead of night, when the storms of life are raging around me, when I have really messed up and I am yearning to talk about it, when I can't find my keys, when I can't decide the best road to take -- whenever, forever? That is something! And it's available to all who would seek the Lord, from the God who never leaves His people.