Finding Security Amidst the Storms: How to Find Your Secure Attachment in God-With-UsSample

Imperfect human love has marred our brain’s ability to receive love. We can’t imagine God pursuing us. We think we have to sing and dance for God, believing His attention is fleeting. We think we have to run after Him, waving our arms. We believe we have to follow formulas and memorize Scriptures as incantations in order to draw His attention in our direction. We believe He will stay pleased with us and not slip away out of sight if we tick off a spiritual to-do list. We fear our secret sins will make Him stay hidden in a cosmic and crafty game of hide-and-seek. We are fearful that if we are found out, God will walk out and never come back. This is what I asked myself: Why would God be interested in the little girl in the mirror when people at the hospital were wavering between life and death? As a child, I couldn’t imagine a God who longed for my presence. I believed the lie of anthropomorphism—that God is a reflection of humans—and so I made God in the image of my father, who is a wonderful man, but, of course, human and thus, limited. Psalm 139 disrupts all of my lies: “If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. . . . How precious to me are your thoughts, God! . . . Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—when I awake, I am still with you” (vv. 8, 17, 18). When I awake, I am still with you. The God of Psalm 139 doesn’t play hide-and-seek. He doesn’t withhold His presence, demanding secret rites. He is not quick-tempered. God doesn’t weigh His attention on the balance of need. He doesn’t have to. His attention is spacious. Limitless. He has ample time to stand with us as we gape at the wide smear of a thousand brilliant pinpoints in the sky that is the Milky Way. He has ample time to hold our hand and agree, “Yes, it is good.” He leans over our shoulder as we cradle a newborn, wondering at the tiny bow of lips, the nearly translucent eyelids, and He whispers with joy in His voice, “Yes, she’s very good.” He sits on the couch, pulling us near as we watch the evening news, overwhelmed at the current of pain pulsing through the world. He whispers as we create, provides wisdom as we work, walks beside us through the hospital where our mother is having surgery. He holds hope while we hold only questions as we limp through our days, wondering how the threads of our stories will find meaning. The truth of God’s omnipresence means He never has to choose one child over another. He never needs to check His phone for emergencies. He’s equally present with each of His children. He invites you to come out of hiding, turn your face toward Him, and bask in the warmth of His love. Song of Songs 2:14 says, “My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.” You have a continual invitation to come into His presence and hear your voice; your face is the one He’s been seeking.