Is God really real?
It is a question I think we all wrestle with at some point in our lives.
Our souls, our bodies, our minds ache for a narrative that brings order out of the chaos of life.
Some people turn to science. Some people believe life is nothing more than a series of coincidences. Some people turn their backs on belief in God because life for them has been too chaotic, how could God possibly be real? Some turn to facts and history. And then some people turn to a fundamentalist kind of faith; everything is black and white. There is no room for chaos and confusion in their system of belief. These folks turn off their brains and forget to think critically about the words they are reading in the bible and the words they consume from those behind a pulpit.
Two years ago, I found myself in that last camp. I liked boxes, simplicity, and black and white thinking. It really did make life much easier, so I thought. It was a formula of sorts: pursue God and things will be good. But it was broken thinking. It was a broken faith system. Life was never meant to be black and white and faith was never meant to be formulaic.
I had a feeling I was floating around in the wrong sea of thinking about my faith. But life was busy, I didn't want to nor felt the need to take the time to think deeply about the kind of faith I was practicing and pursuing. Instead, I showed up to church, consumed the sermons, did all kinds of church activities, and had a long standing, routine, quiet time, where I sought to meet with the Lord on a daily basis. I patted myself on my back for my efforts. I was nailing that faith formula I had constructed.
And then I got robbed.
As I've mentioned in this space before, that event ushered in a season of darkness and brain fog that I could not shake. It came on the wake of grieving a sick parent, and unsuccessful fertility treatments. Life was heavy at the time and my simple, black and white faith system was not fixing my problems. I kept showing up to my morning quiet time routine begging God to fix everything, I wanted miracles, and solutions for the mess. But instead, it seemed as though things just kept falling apart: life got harder, my mom go sicker, continued negative pregnancy tests. My eyes only saw fog. But deep down in my heart, I knew God was still there in the midst of these things, He was working, even if my eyes could not see Him.
In that season, I found myself listening to a singer/songwriter, Christy Nockels' podcast. On one particular episode she told the story of her grief journey that followed a miscarriage. Her sister in law, not knowing what to say or do to comfort her after the loss, decided to write her a note accompanied along side the gift of an amaryllis, a popular Christmas time flower (listen to the episode here: https://christynockels.com/ep-15-amaryllis/).
Her sister-in-law told her the amaryllis, is an unusual flower. This flower blooms in the coldest, darkest months of the year: the winter. Its blooms do not need nor wait on the warmth of spring to bloom. Instead, this flower blooms in a countered rhythm to other flowers. Some say the best thing you can do for an amaryllis bulb is to store it in the darkest, coldest place of your home, for it is there, in that environment that it stores up the energy it needs to bloom at its fullest capacity.
Christy's sister-in-law challenged her to learn how to become like the amaryllis: Could she too, choose to bloom in this dark season? A season where the only thing she saw around her was death and loss.
As I listened to this podcast, as I heard this challenge, I began to weep. My heart related to the power of the amaryllis metaphor, I felt God tug at my heart, asking me a similar question: Can you thrive here? Can you believe that on your darkest day, you can choose to embrace these hard times and let me use them to grow you into something beautiful?
My heart longed to answer: Yes, Lord, let it be so.
After listening to that podcast, there were a handful of women who came to mind that were facing or had faced a season of darkness and extreme turbulence. I believed God asked me to share this story of the amaryllis with them. Knowing I kill all things green, I decided to give these friends a picture of an amaryllis instead of an actual plant or bulb, accompanied with a note about the counter blooming nature of the amaryllis.
I had intended to keep a picture for myself, but names kept coming to my mind and I ended up giving all the copies of the amaryllis picture away.
One day shortly thereafter, I was roaming around a local Goodwill looking for odds and ends. In a half-joking thought, I entered the store thinking how crazy would it be if I found an amaryllis photo in the picture section of Goodwill. Nah, that would be nuts. I quickly shut the thought down.
But I had to look. Something in me was actually beckoning me to go look. Because deep down, I wanted to believe God was real. I needed proof: Proof that all this mess was actually overseen by a good God who longed to be real to His children.
I needed to know He saw me.
I wanted to believe He heard all my prayers and He saw the pain of the emotion I was carrying. I wanted to believe He longed to break through my spiritual and brain fog.
So I walk back to the photo section, feeling the ridiculousness of the hope I was carrying with me to encounter God in a Goodwill store.
And then this is the photo I saw: a perfectly matted, gold framed image, of...an amaryllis.
Is God real?
My heart can answer that question with a resounding “yes”.
Over the past nine years, since I waived my white flag, and declared with all my heart: God, you're real. I believe you're real. I've seen Him move in miracles, the impossible has happened, but more often than not, I've encountered Him the most in the ordinary moments. Moments where for whatever reason He chose not to give me that perfect solution/miracle, but instead, He chose to say to my weary heart: You are seen. I am with you. I know exactly what is on your heart. I'm right here with you.
And yes, my child, I am very real.
Even today, I get lost in the macro. I want to see God at the 10,000 foot view, ya know? I still want the miracle. Heal the thing. Do the thing. Make a way through the impossible. But God keeps reminding me it isn't always about the miracles. Instead, He wants me to know He knows me. And He's with me. Because if I can get those two truths into my head, I really don't need the perfect solution to my prayers, or that long-hoped for miracle.
God is with me, now, and for me, now. And that's really all I need to know.
It may sound ridiculous to ask God for proof of His existence...does it sound crazy? Yes. But I promise that He wants to meet you. That He longs to show you over and over again:
Yes, my child, I am very real.
If you are open to it, I challenge you to stop praying for the miracle and instead pray that He will make Himself known to you in the ordinary moments throughout your day.