Tunnel Vision

Snot, Kleenex, and a seasonal cold do not necessarily lend themselves to hearing God's still, small voice, or so I've learned.

For the past few days, I've only managed to hear God's voice in Scripture during the dark hours after the children are in bed. And that's just not enough of God in a day filled with three young children fussing at me for not having having six hands and me saying, "Blow. Blow again. Wipe your nose. No, you missed some. Come here."

By the time last night came around, more than anything, I craved some Christian fellowship, just being in God's house, the atmosphere of worship, the unity of corporate prayer...and we've been doing a series on witnessing that I didn't want to miss.

As usual, we didn't have any extra time to spare. And I had told Doug to stay home since he was feeling more than a few effects of the mystery cold.

I need a strong super-hero name here for moments like these--my arms full of 46 squiggling, uncooperative pounds of babies, and Wyatt...all of us just trying to make that short walk from the van to the church building.

Well, I was trying. Wyatt? He was trying to enjoy God's creation. "Look at all the big stars, mommy! They're BEAU-ti-ful!"

I quickly glanced up, noting the sky was clear and the stars were bright. But that was beside the point. "Yes, I see. Now come on."

As I left church, the nursery coordinator asked if I had seen the gorgeous moon last night. Yes, my husband had asked me the same question the night before.

It had been quite a sight, a perfect, glowing full moon in a pitch black sky. But in a parking lot surrounded by trees, the full moon now only peeked not-too-spectacularly through the trees. And besides, I was in a hurry to get home in time for the kids' bath time.

Hours later, I sat down to catch up on reading a few blog postings, one of which "just happened" to be about seeing the fullness of God in the stars.

My heart fell. I felt like such a failure. God had been speaking all week, using others to remind me that even if I couldn't see beyond the runny noses, He was still with me. All I needed to do was just STOP and look at His creation.

And worst of all, when I basically ignored my son's wonder at the stars, I passed up a precious chance to show him the God who created them.

What would it have mattered if I had stopped, just for a minute, knelt down on the asphalt with him to look at the stars? Sometimes, my tunnel-vision doesn't make room for an opportunity like this one to teach my children about God.

But I'm thankful that my God keeps on speaking, allows me the privilege of repentance, of learning from my mistakes, and offers His forgiveness.

As I write this, I'm waiting for the moon to come up so I can have a do-over with my son. I can't wait to take him outside and enjoy the magnificence of God's moon and stars.

"The heavens are telling of the glory of God; And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands" (Psalm 19:1).