Saturday, September 3, 2011

In the Eye of the Storm


[ring, ring, ring. . .]  Do you hear that noise?  [beep. BEEP.]  It's the sound - [HONK, HONK!!!!] - of life in the - [You've got mail!] - 21st century.  Kind of maddening, isn't it?  All that constant chaos and bustle and . . . LOUDNESS.  It gets on everyone's nerves sometimes, but more often than not, we just kind of learn to cope with all the - [Error! Error!] - craziness.  It never really occurs to us that we can make it stop . . . probably because, most of the time, we can't.  There's always going to be that person who NEEDS TO BE DEALT WITH NOW, or that project that HAS TO BE FINISHED, or . . . well, you get the idea.  So, given everything we know about the craziness of modern life, what are we supposed to make of biblical commands like the one we named our blog after, "be still and know that I am God?"

I may be biased, but I like to think that this is exactly what we do here at Cherokee Cove - helping people to be still and know God better.  You see, when you commit to just unplug for a couple of days - or even a single evening - something strange starts to happen.  You know the feeling you get when you step out from a loud room - say, a party or a concert - into the open air, and all of a sudden, the silence seems almost louder than the noise you just left?  I think this is sort of what happens when we step outside and leave the craziness of life behind - we leave a silent space which God will use to speak to us, if we let Him.  Do you remember the story of Elijah's despair in 1 Kings 19?  When Elijah had hit absolute rock bottom, he cried out to God to make sense of his life.  The passage runs like this:
"Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind.  After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake.  After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.  And after the fire came a gentle whisper." (1 Kings 19:11-12, NIV)
And only then did God speak to Elijah - not in the majestic clamor of the fire or the earthquake or the whirlwind, but in a still, small voice.  When was the last time you shut out all the noise and tried listening to what God might have to say? 

Well, it may not always work out quite as intended, but that's exactly what we try to do here every day at Cherokee Cove - especially during Family Campouts like the one we're having right now.  As I speak, I'm looking out from the loft over a quiet room, with a few parents scattered about, resting and taking the opportunity to really talk to each other.  The kids, having just been regaled with a Science Magic demonstration (by yours truly), are now out on a hike with Stu - everything is still.  The presence of God is almost palpable at times like this, as we all wait and watch to see what He's going to do next.  But here's the funny thing - He's always at work, doing the amazing, cosmos-shaking things He does best whether or not we slow down to watch.  But when we take the time to do so, He loves to pull us aside and say "Look, look!" 

Sometimes, it's not even like He does anything that we would call "out of the ordinary."  Sometimes, He just wants us to delight in the same grass, the same sky, the same stars, and the same glorious world we've seen every day of our lives.  But the really amazing thing is that He never gets tired of it - as G.K. Chesterton said in Orthodoxy,  "It is possible that God says every morning, 'Do it again' to the sun; and every evening, 'Do it again' to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we."  As I watch the kids running around, full of life and exuberance, I can't help but wonder if Chesterton was onto something.  Maybe when we unplug ourselves from our hectic lives and rest in His presence, we get to experience something of the vitality that doesn't lead to a caffeine high, but to a sense of eternal wonderment, giving praises and singing a joyful song unto the Lord.  And I say, "Hallelujah!"

Hallelujah indeed!

Josiah Wright
(Office Assistant at Cherokee Cove)

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