Eric’s reflections from the March 2010 Redemption Group Immersion…
On the plane ride to Seattle, I began to realize a few things about myself. First, I had a voracious hunger for approval. Second, that this hunger had been greatly affecting the way that I relate to my wife and children, often making them a means to an end. And third, that I did not really expect God to show up and help me. I despaired and begged God to show up anyway.
When I got to Seattle and started going to the group, I realized that I did not know the half of it. My expectations and hopes for God’s active work in my life were even lower than I had felt on the plane ride. At best, I began to see, I live and think as though God cares about what I’m doing wrong, what I can do right, and what I can fix, but not so much about my pain. I admit this even as someone who would assent intellectually that I have been purchased by Christ, that I have the Holy Spirit, and that I will one day join the Lord at His banquet table on the Last Day. Here and now, though, I have been accustomed to living as a functional deist.
This kind of attitude has the effect of keeping me out of contact with my pain and with other people. It also causes me to swing between ignoring God on the one hand and on the other hand, demanding that He show up in my life according to my timetable and expectations. I also do this with the people closest to me; my wife and children feel my alternating silence and subtle demands for love.
About halfway through the week, I became so desperate for God to show up in my life and family that I was admitting things to God I hadn’t realized were true. I told Him that I felt alone in the desert, that His apparent absence felt like betrayal, and that a part of me was still afraid for Him to show up in any real way, but that I was desperate enough to wait for Him to show up in whatever way He wanted to.
I was hunched over in my chair weeping with snot dripping from my nose straight down to floor for about forty minutes while the guys in my group prayed over me. I remember one of them saying, “God, we’ll wait here all day if we have to,” and I immediately wanted to say, “guys, thanks so much for praying for me, but maybe we should stop because I’m not even sure what I have a right to expect out of God. What exactly am I waiting for?”
As one of the leaders is fond of saying, God “flipped the script” on me in that moment. He showed me that all of my disbelief had been played out in the palm of His hand. He took my story of lonely desert wandering and made it a story in which I am the one constantly hiding from a presence I could not escape even for a moment.
I deserve the plagues of Egypt, but Christ has purchased complete and utter reconciliation between me, a vile idol worshipper, and the Holy God. But for me, as for Israel in Egyptian bondage, God “heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant…God saw…and God knew” (Exodus 2:24)