God's Smile

 

I rarely gasp. Almost never am I surprised to the extent of an involuntary exclamation. Excitement comes in the form of a slight flutter or pounding of my heart, a smile or grin on my face. I have never heard myself gasp in pleasant surprise until the other night.

I walked down the flights of stairs to the ground level. I was met with the balmy evening air—balmy though it was February. The sky was dark; the stars were out. I turned my head and saw the moon and gasped aloud. A perfect crescent, almost as small as it gets, but the full moon was outlined in the shadow. Above the moon were two bright stars. I could not see many other stars, just the two above the moon.

And then the sky. It was not black, but a deep, deep blue that faded into the horizon. As picturesque as the full moon in autumn. Why did I care?

I was on my way to a book study meeting, and I had just left my knees, where I told God how I forget too easily. Recently I had been questioning why God cares so much about me. I would tell God how much I loved Him. But still, “Oh God, I want you.”

When I saw the moon, I felt God’s smile. The moon is God’s special little token to me of His love. I gasped not so much at the beauty of the scene but the felt presence of God. He remembers me. He knows me and loves me. God cares about me simply because He wants to. Because He created me. He also feels me in whatever mountain top or valley descent I am encountering in life.

Through each of those encounters, I find God is looking out for me. I see His protection and caring hand even in the midst of my complexity. I feel His compassion in the way another human being speaks to me.

This shows me that I am seeking after God. When I see God at work in my everyday life, it is because I am seeking after God. When He fills me with His love and care, it is because I am wanting to know His love and care and longing for it.

Because, to be satisfied, is to realize a hunger. To be enlightened is to acknowledge a previous darkness. To experience peace, one must have known unrest. To relish forgiveness, I must have a weight I no longer carry. To find God, I must realize I have left Him and begin my search. He wants to be found by me, and you, too.