THE MATTER OF TEAS & SEAS: a journal entry to a God of wonder

I think somewhere along the way, as I attended different churches after high school, I began to wonder. If I could not find you in a room full of hundreds proclaiming your name- could you find me? Sure I found you, only it felt more like fragments. I found your Word and was told constantly in these churches how I was loved by you… but I didn’t find any wonder. I didn’t find that passion that would wake me up at midnight to pray. The kind of wonder that made everything within my heart and soul still upon stepping into your presence. I found you over and over again as I attended these church services, but it felt like a sip of watered down tea. Refreshing for a moment, but leaving me longing… At a hint of something good, something better. Where there should have been more. Where things should have been allowed to steep a little longer, or perhaps another spoonful of the loose leaves thrown in. It wasn’t bitter, but it was something that never soothed my soul, or soothed the burning inside of me.

The thing is, I forgot. I forgot I am as capable at brewing a cup of tea as any church. I forgot that you find me where I am, and I find you whenever I seek- whenever I take the time to simmer on where you are and what you are saying. That is the moment I will taste fully the warmth of your presence. If I want depths, I can surely dive deeper. I forgot, and the collective church made up of individuals wasn’t reminding me. I forgot and I don’t think I am the only one.

It’s not that the words that they said were ever wrong, it was just only ever half of the story. A book that felt like a page or two was often missing, leaving the story understandable and the reader wondering. To experience your love without a wonder is to know only half of you; knowing the character without knowing a face. It is like a path leading to an ocean. It is certainly the right path, but it beckons for more than walking, but diving deep. Crashing waves, immersed and unable to stay afloat- for you are so deep and so good, we don’t need to float. To know the depths fully, we need to sink. To stay afloat surely gives a good view of the world- star filled skies, colorful sunsets, a good view that certainly inspires hope but gives no depth.

There are no fingers to point. It is not a church sign that needs to be torn down or exposed. I think it is something we have forgotten. We, individually and collectively as Christians. I think we have forgotten how to properly brew a cup of tea. I think we have forgotten to let the tea steep a little longer, to not rush the process but be still. To sip on the goodness of the Lord in the fullness of your splendor. To fully taste and see that you are good- not partially. Not watered down fragments, but a full cup of tea.

I think that we have forgotten that individually and together, meeting in the presence of Christ isn’t just to take a single sip to soothe the soul. It is to learn to swim and to learn to sink. To find the courage to dive in and immerse our souls and every aspect of our lives in your presence. It is not about quenching a thirst, that is a moment not a lifestyle. It is about finding depth in a vast ocean and having the courage to leave the shoreline in pursuit of it all- in pursuit of ALL of you. Not just a splash.

To me, God, you cannot be a cozy cup of tea on a rainy day full of conversation without being the ocean depths full of sunken treasure. And you are not the rolling sea without the comfort of warmth in hand. You are both comfort and courage; a story with two sides to tell.

I pray as those learning to fall in love with you daily, that we wouldn’t settle for a bad cup of tea or shallow waters. I pray we would take the time, within our homes and within our churches to experience both- to steep and to sink. To know when to sit and listen and when to cast it all aside, and dive deep. As a 21 yr., old in pursuit of you, I don’t want a watered-down version. I have tasted richer things; a lukewarm cup of tea will not do.

To the church, those in buildings, and those individually, as the body of Christ lets learn how to make a proper cup of tea, filled with the wisdom of a warm fire in a winter storm. To be still and listen, not rushed by the todays or the tomorrows. I long for us to dive to depths that drown our complacency and our doubts.

Won’t you push me to that? Won’t we push each other to that? To the deepest, richest goodness of this God of wonder. Let’s discover the depths we have yet to seek.