I've been thinking a lot about God's presence lately, as you can probably tell from my previous blog entry, and wondering what exactly gives us a sense of His "being there" in the room with us. Is it entirely His initiative to manifest Himself, entirely our perceptions, or a combination of both? And if there are ways to position ourselves to sense His presence more, how can we do that?

I know several ways we can "practice His presence"—even though we know He is always there. One is to ask Him to make His presence known and felt. Another is to make ourselves conscious of Him, to remind ourselves that He is with us and focus our minds and hearts on that fact. Worship and gratitude cultivate that sense as well, as does reading His Word with an intent to hear His voice in it. In fact, the more I think about it, the reason we feel distant from Him is most often by our own choice, or at least by our own default in not choosing to pursue Him. If we pursue Him, He responds. That's the kind of God He is.

I don't mean to imply that if we always seek His presence then we will always "feel" something. There will still be times when we have little sense or awareness of Him, even though there's absolutely nothing wrong in our relationship with Him. Still, we crave those moments of His palpable presence, and I believe He wants us to experience Him in tangible ways. And I believe we will if we make that the desire of our heart and seek Him more zealously.

What would happen if we asked God—not just occasionally but as a persistent, daily, even moment-by-moment request—to host His presence? What if we sought to become a living, breathing, tangible demonstration of His person? Is that a realistic hope?

It seems like a bold, even arrogant request, but any lesser request falls short of our design and His stated purposes. God has promised that we will share in His divine nature (2 Peter 1:4) and has given His Spirit to us to make it happen. He apparently is more zealous to be present within us and among us than we are to experience His presence. He seeks us more than we seek Him.

Don’t just issue a casual invitation for Him to be present in your life. He doesn’t normally respond well to casual invitations. His love is too intense for someone with half-hearted intentions. Instead, choose to relentlessly seek to host Him. Then give Him time. He will begin to fulfill His desire and yours.

I was thinking about last week's exciting win for the U.S. in the World Cup—how the soccer team faced elimination one moment, then won their four-team group with a thrilling goal with less than two minutes left in the game. It made for great drama. But it only played out that way because in the previous game, a U.S. goal was disallowed by a referee's bad call, and earlier in the dramatic game, another goal had been disallowed by bad officiating. If either of those goals had been allowed—or if the U.S. team had taken advantage of its many golden opportunities to score earlier—the story would have worked out fine, but not in a way that captured hearts and minds. There would have been much less drama. No last-minute heroics, no wild celebration at the sudden reversal of fate. Just solid, mundane victories. Mission accomplished, but little glory.

I think there's a parable of life in that plot line. We often suffer injustices—like disallowed goals by bad refereeing—or missed opportunities through our own mistakes. Those very mishaps often set the stage for a dramatic comeback, a redemption story of rags to riches that captures hearts and minds. Sure, if we had played everything perfectly along the way, we would "win." But there would be no thrill, no drama. The mission would be accomplished, but there would be little glory—for us or for God.

The truth is that most of our lives follow a dramatic plot line. At times, things look hopeless. But God has a way of finishing well—of snatching us out of disgrace or disappointment at the last minute. Sometimes it's at the very last minute, long after we think it was "too late." But with God, there is no "too late." With Him, stories can always end well.

I'm learning to view life's injustices and missed opportunities as the very means to a dramatic finish. Such disappointments set the stage for God's redemptive work, His last-minute heroics. Though the drama can be intense—and really stress us out—He already knows the end. And for those who trust Him, the story always ends in glory.

I was thinking about last week's exciting win for the U.S. in the World Cup—how the soccer team faced elimination one moment, then won their four-team group with a thrilling goal with less than two minutes left in the game. I made for great drama. But it only played out that way because in the previous game, a U.S. goal was disallowed by a referee's bad call, and earlier in the dramatic game, another goal had been disallowed by bad officiating. If either of those goals had been allowed—or if the U.S. team had taken advantage of many golden opportunities to score earlier—the story would have worked out fine, but not in a way that captured hearts and minds. There would have been much less drama. No last-minute heroics, no wild celebration at the sudden reversal of fate. Just solid, mundane victories. Mission accomplished, but little glory.

I think there's a parallel to life in that plot line. We often suffer injustices—like disallowed goals by bad refereeing—or missed opportunities through our own mistakes. Those very mishaps often set the stage for a dramatic comeback, a redemption story of rags to riches that captures hearts and minds. Sure, if we had played everything perfectly along the way, we would "win." But there would be no thrill, no drama. Mission accomplished, but little glory—for us or for God.

The truth is that most of our lives follow a dramatic plot line. At times, things look hopeless. But God has a way of finishing well—of snatching us out of disgrace or disappointment at the last minute. Sometimes it's at the very last minute, long after we think it was "too late." But with God, there is no "too late." With Him, stories can always end well.

I'm learning to view life's injustices and missed opportunities as the very means to a dramatic finish. Such disappointments set the stage for God's redemptive work, His last-minute heroics. Though the drama can be intense—and really stress us out—He already knows the end. And for those who trust Him, the story always ends in glory.

There's a remarkable plot in Psalm 66 -- unnoticeable at first, but profound when you realize it's there. The psalm begins with a few verses proclaiming God's great and awesome works, then concludes with similar praise. But in between (vv. 10-11) is where a lot of us live right now: "You, O God, tested us;  you refined us like silver. You brought us into prison and laid burdens on our backs. You let men ride over our heads; we went through fire and water."

Wow. That doesn't sound much like a God who delivers and heals and provides. In fact, it doesn't even sound like a God who cares. But the next phrase is about how He brings us to a place of abundance, and the psalm continues with gratitude and glory.

I get a lot out of that psalm. It reminds me that even when it seems like everything is against me -- and when it seems that God Himself is even fueling the adversity -- it's only for a season, and there's a purpose in it. The hard circumstances in this psalm are a tiny sliver of it, just like the hard circumstances are only a tiny sliver of our lives, especially with eternity in view. (Those situations seem magnified in our perspective sometimes, but they are in fact brief.) And even the trials serve to highlight God's goodness and power. We know who He is when He intervenes much more than we did before anything went wrong. We call Him "deliverer," "healer," and "provider" with much greater conviction and heart than we did when those words were only theological truths. Because of the trials we face, those words become our experience. And God is magnified in our lives.

That perspective is hard to remember when you're living in between the two slices of glory. The trials and tests in the middle of this sandwich are painful. But God is praised from eternity past and will be praised for eternity future. We will join in the praises heartily forever. Why? Because the trials end after a season, and He brings us to a place of abundance.

I've recently been studying and writing about the disciples on the Emmaus road, and what stands out to me is how they were completely blind to a major theme of scripture. They didn't realize that the Christ had to suffer and die. As Jesus traveled with them incognito, He showed them all the places in scripture that spoke of Him. And though they were very familiar with scripture, much of it was new information to them. (It's a great story; you can find it in Luke 24:13-32).

The same thing happened right after Peter's confession that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of God. As soon as Jesus started talking about going to Jerusalem to die and be raised again, Peter began rebuking Him—presumably because he had no idea that the victorious Messiah would ever have to suffer and die. Again, this major scriptural theme was hidden in plain sight.

That makes me wonder what major scriptural themes are "hidden in plain sight" to us. We read the Bible through certain lenses—we all do, even those of us who are convinced we don't—and those lenses cause us to see the verses that support our particular views and miss those that support other views. I believe this is particularly true of "end times" beliefs. A lot of people who think they've got it figured out don't even see the verses that contradict their opinions. But are there more issues and themes like that? I'm sure there are. It's good to ask God to open our eyes to the things we don't already see in His Word. My prayer is that I would be able to read the Bible with fresh eyes every time I come to it—and that you would too.

Some people are diligent to apply all of God's commandments to themselves (and others), but they wrestle deeply with whether His promises are true. Conversely, some people are convinced of the certainty of God's promises but are careless in how they apply His instructions. In other words, we either take a "Thou shalt not" extremely seriously while hedging on "whatever you ask in prayer," or we latch onto a prayer promise as if our lives depend on it while minimizing our responsibility to conform to His character.

It's a strange phenomenon, isn't it? We tend to either believe His demands and downplay His benefits, or vice versa. The result is either legalism or me-centered faith.

Which side do you lean toward? You probably know without having to think too hard about it. Regardless, seek balance. Both God's instructions (i.e., the expressions of His character) and His blessings (i.e., the invitation to experience His goodness) are true. Both apply to us. His expectations for us are just as reliable as His promises for us, and His promises are just as reliable as His expectations. Those who realize that fact will find their faith more fulfilling than those who don't.

Have you noticed that in most of society's trends—in art, music, literature, academic methods, business strategies, and more—Christians have become imitators rather than pace-setters? It wasn't always this way. In many eras of history, Christians were responsible for some of the best, most creative forms of expression. But you'll notice that churches and the Christian community often imitate the methods of the world—and, sadly, often not very well. Though there are notable exceptions among us, we generally have a reputation for imitation and mediocrity.

Why is that? God's people—all who follow Him—were intended to be "the head and not the tail" (Deuteronomy 28:13). We are designed to be leaders, trail-blazers, and pace-setters. After all, we're supposedly in tune with the Creator; one would think that makes us rather creative. And I think we would be exceptionally so if we zealously and persistently prayed and sought for fresh insights and inspiration from Him. That may mean thinking outside the box, but if we serve a God who never confines Himself to any kind of box, that should be no problem. God's character never changes, but His methods throughout history have been all over the map, figuratively speaking. Ours can be too. We can be innovators who show God's creativity to the rest of the world.