Sometimes I really wonder if our lives look at all like God would have them, or if they bare virtually no resemblance to anything He would call worthwhile. We (humanity) go about every day, day after day for thousands and thousands of years some of us hoping to do God’s will, others completely disregarding anyone’s dreams but their own (and perhaps according to their beliefs, rightfully so). But when we were separated from God, when we became unable to converse with him and walk with him as Adam did, the game changed a little I think. We lost hold of his hand, and if I were there in that moment (meaning if I weren’t born into the terror of our abdicated righteousness), I would be crying like this little boy I once saw who had just lost his mother in the grocery store. Standing there in the middle of the frozen goods aisle, the glass on the door to his left still foggy from his excited breathe, I am sure the poor child had no idea where to turn or what to do. He could run up and down the aisles, screaming for his mother, and for the minutes that seem like months, she was neither visible or audible. She could have been just on the other side of a wall of dry pasta, or she could have been in the parking lot driving away for all he knew (luckily she was just around the corner!).

But think about it! Thousands of years of feeling around in the dark. Thousands of years of running up and down the aisles, knowing He has to be somewhere, knowing in your heart he didn’t leave you behind. Of course I know without a doubt God is real, God is ever-present, God is ever-blessing of the world that has done him so many more wrongs than rights, God still prizes us as his greatest creation. But I am also willing to guess that you – not unlike so many famous followers of God (see David’s psalms – spend some of your nights – maybe/hopefully all of them – crying for help from God, praying that your steps may continually fall on His path. And even then it is your hope.

Don’t you ever wonder? Don’t you ever think about what God might have us doing if we could understand Him perfectly? I do. Then multiply that by “fruitful multiplication” by the millions and then by thousands and thousands of years of seeking God’s will (certainly not doing it perfectly). What do you get? You get global warming and 10-hour work days and atom bombs and world wars and consumerism and “coveting thy neighbors goods” and cell-phones and fake sugars that cause cancer and rap music and idleness and lukewarm hearts and over 20,000 denominations of Christianity (Dictionary of Christianity in America) and sweatshops and genocide and slavery.

Then again, I suppose it is a nasty game to infer how deeply ingrained we are as a lost world. It’s a bit redundant on my part as a believer, as a professional “hoper.” And while I think it is important to understand and properly diagnose our “condition,” I also have learned the hard way that the impossibility of living with that on your shoulders is exactly what Jesus came for. We are a redeemed people, and in my opinion, the game didn’t necessarily change so much as it started completely anew. We are again being asked to “be fruitful and multiply.” We are certainly doing the multiplying part…it is more the fruitful aspect to His desires that sometimes I fear for. Fruit is good, fruit is desirable. Are we really doing that?

Yet it is the most promising thing to realize that perhaps if we could hear God’s voice audibly (ok I know it happens…I think it has to me, but you know what I mean), He would be shouting Genesis1 through Revelation22 over and over again. Maybe everything we need to hear really is in the Bible. I am hoping so. Hey, at least we are promised that somebody will right this ship. I pray for that day.

Author Bio: David Hall is currently graduating with a degree in English from the University of Missouri – Columbia. He works as a volunteer for Young Life and part-time at the Cherry Street Artisan coffee shop.

About daviddewain

I am currently graduating with a degree in English from the University of Missouri - Columbia. I work as a volunteer for Young Life and part-time at the Cherry Street Artisan coffee shop.