Sunday, April 19, 2015

God beneath a tree

A friend posted a video on her Facebook wall wherein Joanna Gaines, star of HGTV's Fixer Upper speaks about her Christian faith and how it has informed her life.  I often find these kinds of testimonials grating.  I'm not sure why--maybe because the people who give them come across as smug somehow?  I don't know.  Gaines' video, however, didn't affect me that way.  Her sincerity and a sort of genuine humility and awe were present as she spoke.

But.

The video did make me feel . . . isolated.

All throughout the video Gaines talks about conversations she's had with God throughout her lifetime, and by conversation, I mean CONVERSATION.  God is always telling her what to do.  Start a business.  Close a business.  Take care of babies.  Start a business again.  She sits under a tree to receive guidance for an hour and in that hour God speaks to her.

She believes what she's saying, and I believe she believes what she's saying.  But still.  Why can't a few people I love sit under a tree and find some answers?  Or at least some peace?


6 comments:

CSIowa said...

I had a similar experience recently. My marriage therapist (whom I like and admire) casually recounted having "one of those family history dreams where your ancestor asks you to find her," as if she's had at least half a dozen of them. She did find her, and even named her daughter after her. Yet here I sit, in marriage therapy, with a serious lack of clarity about what I'm supposed to do next.

Lauren said...

I know this guy that sat in a garden once, perhaps under a tree, and didn't get an answer.

Lauren said...

I know this guy that sat in a garden once, perhaps under a tree, and didn't get an answer.

Louise Plummer said...

I pretty much do what I want.

Louise Plummer said...

And I'm shallow.

Megan Goates said...

I keep thinking about this post. My experience when I want to talk to God is usually to sit under a chandelier in a temple, where I do feel like he speaks to me, but it's usually to tell me that all the hard things I'm going through are part of the great whole of my life---that it's not finished yet and I have to have all of these experiences, even though they are exquisitely painful. I feel like he knows me and he hears me, but he is nudging me to keep going. The only way to the end is through it. All of it. I hope this doesn't sound smug. Or grating.