Thursday, February 3, 2011


As a child, I was taught that God was some bearded guy that hung out on a golden throne somewhere in the sky and oversaw the events of the Universe; I often confused him with Santa Claus.  That's a great image for a 6-year old, but it's no wonder that as an adult I have questioned his existence, especially in the face of personally witnessed poverty, war, strife, disease, etc…  How can a benevolent God allow his children to be so self-destructive?

Over the past week I've wrestled with a lot of things in my life; I've sought better clarity, understanding, peace, and grace.  All things that if God exists, I believe that he would want me to find... on my own.  I've taken time to sit quietly in a style that I was taught and to clear my mind of the incessant noise.  At the end of the day, once the noise stops and everything just simply exists as it truly is; I found God.

I can't describe in words what I've come to understand, but I've realized that God has been there my entire life, speaking to me in countless ways, but I've just failed to listen.  Those who know me are not that surprised (smile).

The picture above is of a boy named Sebastián.  I found him in a camp in Port-au-Prince not to long after Haiti's horrific earthquake, and only days after doctors had removed one of his legs above his knee.  He was completely alone in the world, having lost his entire extended family.  When we met he was still struggling with his new crutches, hobbling around the muddy camp making friends, sleeping and eating where he was able. 

Sebastián and I chatted as best we could given the language barrier.  He smiled as we fist-bumped, and in his eyes I saw something; something that until only a few days ago I could not identify.  It was God speaking to me through this child.

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