Companion to God
Once upon a time (ok. two weeks ago), I wondered if there was anything God wanted. I don’t mean what God wanted FOR ME -- for me to do or become or learn.
No, I wondered if He wanted anything for Himself/Herself/Oneself/THEself.
The rational-mind answer is that since God is whole and complete and eternal and allthatotherstuffwesay He is not “in need” of anything for Himself.
But two weeks ago, sitting in a Quaker meetinghouse –
Sidebar: Sometimes I sit in silence with the Quakers. They are kind, they ask nothing of me and so I do it. I sit in silence with the Quakers. The Quakers believe that when you sit in silence and wait for God to become present – He will become present. And I cannot resist the possibility that they might be right.
Return: So once upon a time, sitting in silence in a Quaker meeting house, waiting for God to become present, I was thinking about what it was like to BE God, and that’s when I wondered if God ever wanted anything for Himself.
And I asked myself, if I was whole and complete and eternal and allthatotherstuffwesay, would there be anything I would want?
And it occurred to me that someone or something that is whole and complete and has everything there is to have, might want…
Someone to share it all with.
Merriam Webster says that a companion is “one that keeps company with another.” I find this a beautiful thing to think about God
Maybe God would like to have someone keep company with Him. (Maybe He’d like it to be YOU.)
To be God’s companion is something quite different from those interactions in which I treat God like a Pez dispenser, bopping Him on the head repeatedly with my litany of requests:
Lord, can you give me…God, can you teach me…Father, can you change this…Please can you make him…
Being Companion to God means laying those things aside for a bit and showing up for HIS sake, not mine.
I mean, we do this with our companions in our lives here all the time – why shouldn’t we treat God the same?
What happens when I think of myself as Companion to God? What happens when I flip the script and instead of thinking of God only as "my" daily companion...I think of MYSELF as HIS?
What happens when I lay aside my can-you-give-mes, with their anxiety and grasping and fear, and replace them with gentle expressions of concern:
Can I help, Lord? I’m listening, God. I'm here for you, Lord.
I tried it, in my imagination. I imagined sitting beside God on a bench. Just sitting there. Not asking for anything.
We sat there on the bench, God and I. Just sat there quietly. (What? Oh. Light. I imagined God as Light.) After awhile, I asked God how His week was going. Then I asked Him if there was anything I could do for Him.
When I asked God how He was doing and if there was anything I could do for Him, the feeling that slowly crept over me…well…it was…kinda wonderful. I felt God profoundly present.
HERE'S WHAT ELSE HAPPENED
As I sat quietly on the bench with God, Istarted feeling whole and complete and eternal. Calm and serene. Peaceful and kind.
And I think -- I think God was sharing with me, you guys. God was sharing Himself with me.
Look. This world is happy to tell us that God is BIG and VAST and UNKNOWABLE --
But what if He really just wants someone to share it all with?
I’ve done a great job over the years asking God to show up for me. Now I’m asking myself to show up for Him. This doesn’t mean I don’t ask Him for things I need and want. Of course I do. This is a relationship, we talk about things, and, I mean, c’mon, He’s God. OF COURSE I'M GOING TO ASK FOR THINGS.
I’m also trying to be a Companion to God. To carve out time where I show up just for Him. Just to sit with Him for awhile, ask Him how He is and if there’s anything I can do for Him.
“I’m here for you,” I said to God when I got up to leave the bench that day. “If you need anything done that I can do, please, please let me know. I will do it. I love you." <Pause> "And I will keep showing up," I added. The Light on the bench shifted and intensified. It felt like...it felt like a smile. It felt like God was...happy.
The Gospels tell us that Jesus frequently withdrew to be alone with God and pray. You. Guys. Maybe He was going to the bench. So now you try it. Withdraw, slip away. Imagine yourself on a bench with God. Ask Him how He’s doing, and if there’s anything you can do for Him. And then just wait. On the bench. With God.
It might be kinda wonderful.