Oh, There You Are, God.

Note from Brooke- While this book is fiction, a lot of it is based on personal experiences. Here, I share a few of my own, and the truth I found that changed everything. This blog was originally here. 

Everyone begins life in awareness of God.  As time passes, we “grow up” and lose this awareness.

As kids, we often understand intrinsically that God is here, right next to us, right in us. Then, “reality” hits. People betray us. We lose our sense of trust. We get beaten up physically on the playground, emotionally by teachers or parents or kids, and spiritually in church. The basic unifying message is that “you are not enough.”

And so we hunt. We hunt through any means possible: addiction to careers, drugs, church, sex, religious acts.  If we are honest we will admit, “finding God” and “accepting Jesus” in a typical “conversion” experience doesn’t make us stop hunting. In fact, the hunting it self can become an addiction.

We repent, we believe, we receive, we are changed. Now, we are told, we must do, we must work it out. We must seek God more, find God deeper. Get closer to God. Does this mean, God only gave us part of Him self when “he came into our hearts?” We’re taught this sunday school rhetoric, but I am afraid we don’t really stop to think. We sing “All I need is you” and in our hearts, we are hunting. “I need you God, so come to me, come and be my everything.”

It’s a ridiculous analogy, obviously, but it seems to me like the state of so much of the church.

We are always looking for what we already have.

I spent most of my life hunting for something that would make me feel better about myself. Being a Christian felt like I was in a club where you were morally superior, and had certain duties and obligations like praying for people, and attending church. When it was all over, I was one of the few lucky ones that wouldn’t get burned to a crisp. But I didn’t feel very lucky. I tried to convince myself I was blessed and a child of God, but deep down I didn’t really believe it. I believed that nagging voice,

“You are not enough. You are not smart enough, or pretty enough. You are strange. No one will ever love you.“

When I was seventeen, I experienced God’s love in a way that left me shaking and haunted, knowing that He was real and that I needed to find Him. So I gave up ideas about college and being in a relationship, and moved to the middle of nowhere east Texas. I dived head first into a program intended to help people to find God. Essentially, I was told in order to really find Him, I needed to do more. I needed to give up everything, especially any kind of entertainment or reading that wasn’t deemed “spiritual”. I was fed the importance of having godly character, being physically fit, professional, a leader, someone that stood above everyone else, a “world changer.” Then I was given a list of ways to become this.

Often these step by step formulas to be a super christian were interlaced with a spoon full of grace, which I swallowed quickly, starving, but was always left unsatisfied.  Ultimately, God in his grace sought me out and changed me. I realized over time all I really need to do is be with Jesus, let him love me, and that everything else will fall into place. This was an introduction to grace, but the tricky thing is that legalism mixed with a bit of grace, is still legalism.

Adding sugar to poison might make it sweet, but it is still poison.

My hunger for God was insatiable.  Sometime when others went off to town to go to Starbucks and the movies,  I sat on the hill behind my dorm and looked for God. One night, the sky was clear and the stars were close. The Texas night was warm and peaceful, but inside, I felt like a starving animal. I rocked back and forth on the paved path, not caring about the ants that crawled up to take a bite out of me, for I was waiting for a spiritual experience! I cried and moaned.

“God come! If you don’t come, I will die.”

A fierce determination, which is rare in my generally lazy nature, set in.

“God, I am not going inside until you show up! I don’t care how long it takes! I don’t care if I am here all night!“

I “pressed in” to something invisible, hoping deep down God would see my dedication and commitment and give me the fireworks show I was really asking for. I was so intense, I could have sweated blood. I stared at the dark woods before me, that the path led to, imagining a bright lighted man walking out, giving me a sign, telling me He loved me. I stared at the spot so hard, I almost convinced myself something was there. God was real, I knew that. He loved me, so why isn’t he giving me what I want? I was determined, I was dedicated. I had followed the rules. I was “setting the standard.” I had done what was asked of me, and all I wanted was to see the being I had given everything too, was that too much to ask? Minutes or hours passed and I began to feel defeated. I felt abandoned and rejected. I felt cheated. So I gave up. I picked myself of the ant covered side-walk, and walked, head down, back to the dorm.

In the movie Hook Robin Williams finds himself in Never Never Land, surrounded by the lost boys which he once led. He has gone from the never-growing up boy hero who can fly, to a stuffy business man who is obsessed with climbing the corporate ladder and doesn’t know how to relate to his kids. In my favorite scene in the movies, Williams is face to face with the new leader, Rufio. He is convinced he is a fraud, and so are most of the rest of the boys, and Peter himself. The only one who believes in Him is Tinkerbell. In the midst of deciding whether to give him a chance, or kill him, one of the lost boys walks up to Peter. He takes off his glasses and begins feeling his face, kneading it like clay. As his small hands make his way around his eyes, he pushes back his wrinkles into a smile, and he finds what he is looking for.

“Oh, there you are, Peter!“

In that moment, Peter realizes his true identity – there is a hero inside of him, capable of leading, fighting, flying, and ultimately winning the hearts of his children back and saving the day.

That night in the field, I was desperate because I didn’t know who I was. But more tragic, I didn’t realize who God was in me. Even though I said I believed he dwelt within me, I really believed He was somewhere “out there.”  And so, I believed happiness, peace, purpose, love, all the things I needed were somehow out there. In my next accomplishment. In tomorrow. Just around the river bend.  I thought what countless human beings have thought throughout the span of time,

“If I just see God, it will be enough. If I just had one touch from Him… If I just had some sort of sign.”

When I was thoroughly spent in the field, I gave up, and went inside, feeling like a failure, feeling confused. I walked into my dorm room, and something caught my eye. It was my reflection in the mirror. I stopped for a moment, as if trying to recognize someone I knew that I knew, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I looked beyond my face, red and splotchy from crying, past my tear-stained eyes, and into them. I stood in silence, barely breathing, looking myself in the eyes. It was then, I heard a gentle voice within me.

Sneak Peak!

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Sightings

Writing this book has been a strange experience, to say the least.

At times, I felt like Scully from the X-Files, my cynicism getting in the way of the truth that is out there.

Screenwriter Kevin Miller once said,

“I believe stories are discovered, not created.”

I saw this come to life in the writing process of this book.

The fact that Steve and I are even writing a novel is funny enough in the first place.

The only “novel” I wrote was for a Junior year English class assignment, about a girl who went to live with her grandma who was actually a crazy cat lady who was kidnapping her.

Forty pages and an A- was the biggest accomplishment for me.

When Steve came to me with the idea, I was a little bit doubtful. It sounded good, but could we do it?

Would people think it was a “Christian version of”?

Would we butcher a classic that everyone loves?

Do people actually co-write novels together?!

Throughout the time writing the rough draft, there was lots of encouragement coming from the most “random” of sources and situations.

Like, I couldn’t get away from things to do with The Wizard of Oz.

At first I was practical and made a comment about how maybe these things have always been there, and it is only now that I am noticing them.

But it began to get a little ridiculous.

It seemed like every other day people were posting things about the Wizard of Oz on facebook.

(I know that’s a Wicked reference, but it was a timely message)

The kicker was going to a One Republic concert on Halloween. They came on the stage dressed as the characters from the Wizard of Oz.

Ryan Tedder made a nice Tin Man

And lo and behold, a week later we went to another concert at this random hipster beer garden.

I walked into the dark room, and who was in the spotlight on the wall….

Dorothy and Toto, being harassed by someone in a hazmat suit?!?

Um, random.

and then I am in New Hampshire in some park by the ocean and I hear some singing and it’s Dorothy and the whole gang.

Theses are just a few, there are way too many to list.

I can’t get away from it, and I don’t want to.

The story is out there, waiting to be discovered.

The adventure is in the discovery.