...And God Became Impersonal

Originally posted by Brenda on Fri, 20 Jun 2008 11:53:00 GMT on Pawn to King and is filed under True Stories

As I glanced around the funeral parlour, my heart sank. Only a handful of people had shown up to say ‘goodbye’ to a life that had, no doubt, mattered to God.

Barely a dozen family members, and three ‘friends’, that turned out in actuality to be strangers that were providing the food ‘post-burial’, were all struggling to support her only heir, a son.

Her own minister didn’t even bother to show up, and another had stepped in to fill the void. A supposed ‘Christian burial’, the woman hadn’t even walked a life of personal relationship with Christ at all, and in the end it actually made a mockery of the entire situation.

I thought back over her life. Once a vibrant woman actively involved in her local church, she had become a lonely woman who rarely ventured beyond the walls of her home – and as a result, became a recluse.

Her husband, a much older man, had passed away many years earlier. In her grieving, she had asked the people around her for space. No doubt, she may even have inadvertently ‘pushed’ them away. They said they wanted to honour her need to mourn her loss, but in the end, the ‘church’ folk just never called...not even her own minister.

….And God became ‘impersonal’.

A faithful servant for decades, she gradually stopped going to choir and other activities. She lost her heart to even be there. In reality, all she wanted was for someone to reach out and care… to find God in the midst of it all… but still no one called. Eventually, over time, she had become bitter and forgotten altogether, and she felt she didn’t matter to anyone.

….And God became ‘impersonal’.

Weeks after that, on a Sunday morning, I sat in the back corner of my own home church. Scanning the sanctuary, I noted a few visiting faces and made a mental note to speak to them before they left. After service, in the busyness of people wanting to socialize, they somehow got missed and slipped out the doors and back into the world.

I wondered if we were the only ones, that very day, that would have made them felt like they mattered. Perhaps, in their quest to find Him in a moment of trouble, we might even have saved someone, who in their own quiet place of desperation was thinking of taking their own life. Maybe, just maybe, because we overlooked them they thought that no one cared; as much as to say, that they felt they weren’t seen or heard even by Him.

…And God became ‘impersonal.”

In this day and age of busyness, I often wonder how often we ‘servants of Christ’ can make God become ‘impersonal’ even in our own personal circles of contact. After all, we are called to be His hands and feet, and to be a light in the darkness.

How many opportunities in any given day, do we get the opportunity to reach out to someone and introduce Him in a real and personal way? How do we reflect the very God that cares enough to know the number of hairs on our head, and on whose palms our very names are written - making Him not ‘impersonal’, but ‘personal’, caring and real?

It’s a risk, but let’s face it, some risks are just worth taking.

A very recent trip to one of the toughest neighbourhoods in NYC showed me that while every opportunity can be a risk, some are just easier and safer than others. My two ministry partners had warned me of the danger of being present in such a place, and I was most grateful that God had positioned me between them for protection.

The men, deep in conversation, had not noticed immediately that I was no longer with them. As we rounded the last corner to head to the van, I had stopped to encourage a lady officer who was sitting at her post, where she was contained within a small vehicle. The beating sun, blended with the ‘concrete jungle’, made the heat more unbearable than was possibly comfortable. In her tiny, glassed-in environment, I paused at the window to acknowledge her - commenting on how hot she must have been in full uniform, and inquiring of her need for a drink of water. It was greeted simply and hesitantly, with a nod and a half-smile.

All I knew in that moment, was that God had suddenly become ‘personal’ and that I was simply a vessel to let her know that ‘someone’ cared. Little did I know, that by the grace of God and my total ‘naivety', that I could have had my head blown off for doing it in that area! The inquiry had given me the favour of continued ‘life’ in that moment to me, and made God ‘real’ and ‘personal’ to her. My dear friends on the other hand , are no doubt glad that my gift is one of intercession, rather than walking with them around the ‘hood and endangering their lives!

A willing vessel, can make a big difference in a moment and a life. So, take the time today and encourage those around you. Take every opportunity to leave a mark on your fellow man and let them know there is an awesome God who loves them and cares, or else, they might just think that they have become forgotten...

…And God becomes ‘impersonal’.