It was one of those beautiful, late summer evenings as the sun was setting over the lush Tennessee hills. I was taking a drive through the countryside to clear my head. It was a hard day and I decided it would be better to press into what was causing my pain rather than trying to avoid it. A local church had just released their live worship album so I turned it on and let the music wash over me; sunsets and a live album could usher in a renewal like not many things could. However, I was nearing the end of the drive and my pain had not yet shifted.
I pulled into our driveway and rolled down the windows before shutting the car off. I laid my seat back and stilled my mind. Closing my eyes, I pictured myself crawling into the lap of Jesus and resting my head on his chest. It didn’t take long before I began to cry out to God. With each deep breath of lament, His presence filled more of my body, soothing the deepest aches first. Like a man and his bride, I could sense His delight in me. (Song of Songs 4:10) I let my imagination wander with Him and was not afraid of where it would lead us. I silenced the worry about what time it was or what I needed to do next, and gave myself the space just to be with Him. I stayed here, in the intimacy of His presence, until my mind settled and the pain in my heart eased.
Intimacy is an invitation to get a closer look at the intricacies that make up exactly who we are. God has set the desire within us to be known because He created us for connection. We know this because we bear the image of God (Genesis 1:27), and He is a relational God. But we cannot be known until we let ourselves be seen—in all of our chaos and beauty. Here, in the exposing of ourselves, we surrender our comforts, and our control, for the possibility of a shared love exchange through the connection of one heart to another.
When we “turn to the Lord, the veil is taken away,” and God reveals to us a glimpse of His heart (2 Corinthians 3:16).