on seeing God

How do you see God?

Often in Christian circles, we hear phrases along the lines of "I saw God while…" or, "I see God in that," or, "I see God in you." I often wonder if everyone means the same thing when they say that they "see God." Does it feel the same way for everyone, or is it something different for each of us? 
In one of my favorite poems by Rainer Maria Rilke, he writes,  " God speaks to each of us as he makes us  then walks with us silently out of the night." 
Rilke talks about how God speaks to each of us in a specific way that God knows we will hear. Along these lines, I wonder–does God appear to each of us the way God knows we will see? 
In this weeks' instagram live, I asked Jessie and Andrew one of my favorite questions to ask people: "When you hear the word God, what do you picture? What's the first thing that comes to your brain?"
As I've asked people this question over the years, I've heard a variety of answers. Some people have said "a dark sky with thousands of stars," "a mother rocking a baby in her lap," and "G-O-D in big block letters." Jessie said she saw a tangible, bright light that you could hold in your hands. Andrew said he envisions mystical, mysterious clouds. For me, I always picture the last scene in The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, when Aslan is walking down the beach as the sun is setting and Lucy, teary eyed, is watching him from the balcony. 
The way we picture God is vital, because it affects both how we see God and God's character, and the places we watch for God to show up. Do we imagine God as an aloof old man with a beard in the sky who doesn't really care about our problems? As a busy father with a 'not right now' attitude? A swath of color and light? A woodworker on a hill? Or something else entirely? 
What are things that have shaped your experience with God up to this point? How has this, in turn, shaped your relationship with God? How is the Spirit revealing God to you specifically, now? Where are things shifting? How does it feel in your body when glimpses of Jesus come? When everything is illuminated, even if for just a moment? 
As we enter a season of discernment and prayer as a church, may we remember the ways that God insists on being personal with us, that we are created to realize God in our bodies. That we are known by God, and through this intimate knowing, God's beauty and presence follow us everywhere. May we remember to practice looking for the ways God asks us to re-evaluate our old ideas of the holy, and to open our eyes to the possibility of change in the unformed places of our heart. May we cling to the hope that our exhausted eyes will see God in the way that God is precisely forming us to notice. May we not grow weary of the good work of being transformed in the way of Jesus as we seek God's face–trusting that as we seek the kingdom, as we come to the God who wants to talk with us, that God has already drawn near. God is not hiding, but simply waiting for us to notice where he is working already.