The Wind of God

Yesterday the wind was very windy. My friend tells me how she noticed it whipping everything into winter ready shape. And we chat about how though we can’t see the wind, we can see all that it does as we look around and about.

I’m reminded of a verse I read that talks about the Holy Spirit, how He, too, is like the wind. (John 3:6-10) The wind rushes this way and that. We hear it rustling the tall grasses and whipping through the trees, but we can’t see where it comes from and we don’t exactly know where it’s going. So it is with the Spirit of God. We can’t see Him. We can’t reach out to touch Him or hold a part of Him in our hand. But we see His movements, sometimes this rushing, sometimes this gentle sort of breathing. And we know He’s there because we see what He does as we look up and around and about.

Let me tell you a story.

The other night, Brent and I sat in this coffee shop with our friends, a young couple like us.
They told us, as we sat wide-eyed, how they were just recently on the verge of a divorce. The guy was addicted to porn and cared most about his addiction and money. The girl just wanted love and found it in another man at work. And just as they were in the middle of officially calling it quits, something strange happened. It happened in the guy’s heart first. Our friend had hit rock bottom and so the only place he had to look was up. He cried out to God and confessed all his crud. All the ways he loved lust and craved wealth and all the times he had neglected the one he was supposed to cherish the most. His heart broke big time. But, God met him down there in his slum and pulled him out. So then, my friend, he just wanted his wife again.

But, he had to work for her and he had to work hard. Because she’d already left and boarded up her heart and handed  it away to another man. So this husband, he became a bit more like Jesus and he learned to love her, for real this time, and he showed this by meeting her needs. She was working these insane hours so he brought her lunch. And he knew she rarely ever stopped to eat, so he packed her snacks. He even chopped up all the vegetables and put them in these ziploc baggies. He kept doing these ridiculous things for a while. And she thought he was weird and she shook her head, but she couldn’t help but like the change.

Then one night, something crazy happened. They got together over dinner and they talked and confessed and this time both hearts cracked and bled and broke raw and real. And God  met them down in their slum. He knit their hearts together and healed the hurts and they began again. And they  ran, but this time instead of running away, they ran straight for each other’s hearts and the next day, and the day after that, they did it all over again. She left the other man and they both left their old life and together they walked a new road, holding onto one another’s hand.

They sat across from us like these two love birds and though they’ve still got lots of work to do, clearly everything had changed.

And Brent and I, we just stared at them, both of us blown away. They reminded us of the importance in chasing after each other’s hearts and tenderly tending to the little green shoots of grace.

This morning, I thought of their story again, and still I’m amazed. I listen to the rain pelting the window and the wind skidding wet leaves across the patio and I can’t help but smile with this quiet knowing. Because I know I can’t see the Spirit. I may not be able to reach out to touch Him or take hold to grasp Him in my hand. But, I know He’s real. I can feel His lively motion. Sometimes this wild rushing, other times this gentle breeze blowing.

I see the current of His movements as I look above and all about me. Hearts bowing, lives bending, like tall grass swaying in the wind.

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