As The Deer

When The Soul Thirsts, God Is Near

Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book, before one of them came to be. Psalm 19:16 NIV

The wooden church pew felt particularly masochistic that day; hard, unyielding and reveling in my discomfort.

With anxiety rising in my throat like a whirlpool of acidic liquid fear, I sat.

Rigid.

Numb.

I was there early, had the pew to myself and I silently prayed.

Please, God.

We hadn’t yet shared Sally’s cancer diagnosis with anyone, not even our kids.

How do we share this news? What do we say? We could barely process it ourselves.

Pastor Paul walked by, always friendly. We had forged a level of familiarity in the prior year when my Dad had taken ill and died and I admired him deeply.

“Morning, Cam, nice to see you.” He smiled.

Then paused.

“You know, I think we need to get together” he said.

I nodded.

A week later, we shared a coffee on his front porch and I shared my news. He acknowledged simply that he obviously had no idea but expressed no surprise at all.

“That’s just the way God works” he said.

That’s the day that he went from being “the” pastor to being “my” pastor.

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I think about these moments sometimes, these “coincidences”, these chance encounters that don’t really make any sense.

I wrote about a couple of them in a previous post. I won’t repeat them here but you can click the link here to read that article if so inclined.

Coincidence or Providence: You Decide

Relative to the example above, I’ll share just two others.

Driving back from Norwich late one night I was tired, exhausted really and burdened with sadness. Dad’s life was winding down quickly, his dementia and plethora of other issues sapping his energy, conspiring to bring his days to a sad end.

I was driving on the eastbound 401 between Woodstock and Brantford and I even remember what I was listening to: As The Deer by Shane & Shane, the raindrops on the windshield ironically matching the tears on my cheeks.

That’s when a magnificent fireworks display shot off high above the dark woods on my right side. Stunning and brilliant and timed in an impossible perfect way.

My tears turned to joy and my heart filled with a feeling of assurance that I can’t adequately describe.

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A couple of weeks after Sally’s diagnosis, we were still coming to terms with everything and that, plus some work pressures had me weary and tired.

Driving home, I found myself feeling melancholy, just worn down and I switched my Spotify to some worship music and silently prayed for strength as I drove.

Looking up in that moment, and I swear this is true, this was my view. Fortunately I had a traffic light ahead so I could stop and grab an image.

Coincidence? Providence? I can’t obviously say but I can say that my gratitude to God in these moments has been profoundly real and genuine as has the sense of peace that I have experienced in these fleeting moments.

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Final thought

On Sunday morning we were in church. I don’t sit alone anymore. Sally is beside me. She’s healing and her strength, resiliency and beauty astound me. Often, like this week, we’re joined by our daughter or by our dear friends.

The presence of the Spirit is palpable and there are times, during certain songs where my throat closes with emotion and I have to stop and just breathe.

Just to say thank you.

The love of our God is so real and my heart is just so full.

Even the church pew, that once hard uncompromising surface, somehow feels a little less unyielding these days.

As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. Psalm 42:1 NIV