This is what I shout out in my minivan while my kids were a captive audience.
“Wow! Look! Look! Look!”
I point out the front window at the massive rainbow stretched from one side of the road in a perfect arc all the way to the other side.
Its colors are deeply defined and easy to spot in the curious sky—deep gray, light mist, bright sunbeams shooting through dimples in the clouds.
The week had been long and busy and I had been weary as in weary-in-the-soul.
And then this, this glistening reminder, this flash of hope, this tangible presence of God-at-work. God created something beautiful THIS DAY.
All the beauty isn’t in the past. His glory is here and it’s now, not just been there, done that, and nevermore to come.
So, it’s not just the beauty of the sky, (though it was beautiful), it was the beauty of God bursting through the gray and the overcast; this is what caught my attention.
My kids, however, weren’t so impressed. Most of them ignored me. One child gave a halfhearted attempt at interest and asked, “Where?”
I’m not confident she even bothered to look. I think she was just trying to make me happy because she’s nice that way.
But I didn’t let this one go, not easily anyway. I told them to LOOK. Really LOOK. I’ve seen rainbows before in my life, but this was astonishing and breathtaking and they were MISSING IT!
At this point, I was on a tiny country road with no other car in sight. I slowed to just below the speed limit and urged my kids to please look at the sky.
It still didn’t matter. They listened to their music. They flipped another page in the book. They didn’t see because they were busy, busy with their own noise and their own agenda.
A few minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot and stopped the van. We unloaded lawn chairs and jackets and gathered with friends around a bonfire.
“Did you see?” others asked. Many had missed it, but some of us were in on this divine secret, this magnificent rainbow caught in the early evening sky. We shared that moment of awe with each other.
This time, I was one of those who had seen. But maybe other times, maybe lots of the time, maybe even most of the time, I miss seeing.
Maybe God has been painting rainbows in the sky and I’ve been too busy with my own noise and my own agenda to notice.
What about you?
Frederick Buechner writes:
Listen for God, stop and watch and wait for him. To love God means to pay attention, be mindful, be open to the possibility that God is with you in ways that, unless you have your eyes open, you may never glimpse. He speaks words that, unless you have your ears open, you may never hear. Draw near to him as best you can” (The Remarkable Ordinary).
Pay attention. Be mindful.
Stop and watch and wait.
God said it this way to the prophet Habakkuk:
“Look among the nations, and see;
wonder and be astounded.
For I am doing a work in your days
that you would not believe if told.” (Habakkuk 1:5 ESV).
How often do we do this?
How often do we:
and Be Astounded?
Maybe today is the day to begin, to renew our determination, not to look for signs or miracles, but to wait expectantly for God Himself with eyes wide and ears open.
Of course, my life is loud. My son is no longer napping and he likes to talk to me. A lot. My older girls come home from school and they want to review their day and maybe fight with each other and practice the flute, the piano, the drums and ask for homework help. Maybe they are doing all this at the same time.
I’ve been considering the discipline of silence, though, how choosing quiet whenever possible heightens my senses to God at work around me.
I try to keep my words few. I walk in quiet. I drive in quiet. I listen more with friends and try to talk, talk, talk less.
I can’t be silent all the time. I can’t be quiet all the time. But there are times when it’s possible and I step into those possibilities and choose the discipline of quiet and silence.
Somehow quieting the noise helps me not only hear God better, but see Him better, too, and hearing Him and seeing Him…well, that’s what we really want.