I stood up at my chair in the sanctuary of my small church. My daughters had all scattered to go sit with their friends, and that was fine by me. It was nice to have some time alone to enjoy the presence of the Lord during worship, and other than my spouse beside me, I was alone to focus my morning on seeking His face. I loved Sunday morning worship for this very reason. The words to the Jesus Culture song were projected on the screen, but I knew them by heart, so I closed my eyes enjoying the moment. I sang,
Show me your glory!
And in my head I also prayed. Yes, Lord. Show me your glory.
I want to see your glory like Moses did.
As I stood there praying for God to show me more of His presence my thoughts were interrupted by a small body bumping hastily into mine. As I opened my eyes I simultaneously felt my seven year old wrap her arms around my waist. She hugged me tight and whispered, “I love you, Momma.”
I smiled down at my eldest daughter who had left the company of her comrades to give ole mom an embrace, and at that moment the Lord spoke to me.
Here it is. My glory. Do you see it?
I looked down at the smiling, snaggletoothed grin of my girl, and I saw God’s face. His majesty was evident in her existence, and it was magnified in the face of all of my daughters. He had created man in His image, and with each precious gift of a child I had been given, He had shown me His glory made concrete in their lives. Each day was a gift, every breath, and every blowing breeze. His power rested on the wings of a fragile butterfly, and His beauty was made perfect in the rising of the sun. Each cry of a baby sang the awesomeness of His magnificence, and every laugh of an elderly woman demonstrated His loving hand.
I pondered how often I forget that fact? It was easy as a mother to become exasperated with my children, and as a human being it was easy to be frustrated with the world around me. I could flounder and fuss through each over-scheduled day just hoping for the time to seek Jesus; yet there He was. In every crooked smile of a child, and in every brown leaf that fell upon my lawn signifying new beginnings for the coming year. It was certainly in no way necessary for me to wait until Sunday morning, standing in worship, to feel His presence or experience His glory. It was there, all around, if only I could open my eyes and heart to receive it.