Year: 2014

There seem to be so many people to whom we are accountable. Folks who are looking to us for answers, for responses, for support, for direction. Folks who take their cues from us. Children, parents, spouses, partners, friends, employers, employees, creditors, landlords, tenants, etc., etc., etc.

It can get a little overwhelming, and if we’re not careful, we soon begin to feel that we’re living our lives just to fulfill all these demands and expectations, just to please all the important people in our lives. And our lives can start to resemble a highly choreographed performance, complete with juggling too many balls, dancing on too many sets, and balancing on way too high a wire.

But I want to remind you of one simple, but important thing. There is only one audience that matters. And there is only one person in that audience: God our Father, the Lover of our Souls. In the end, His review is the only one that counts. And the best part is: God is not some dispassionate observer, watching us with critical eyes, waiting for us to stumble or mess up our lines or screw up our scene. No, God wants to give us a good review, so He sits as the Audience of One, clapping loudly and cheering us on.

So give God your best performance. Hold nothing back. Shine vibrantly. Laugh deeply. Share bravely. Sing joyfully. Speak lovingly. Forgive fiercely. Give generously. Love hard. Dance, like David, with all your might. Your biggest fan, the Audience of One, is watching.

Daniel, my four-year-old nephew, and I had our first stairway chat last week. (Stairway chats are an Auntie Leah tradition, started years ago when Lorenzo – now 20 – was a little boy.) During stairway chats, we sit on the hallway stairs – just the two of us – and talk about whatever is on our minds.

Well, on Daniel’s mind that night were “houseless” people (his term for the homeless) and where they sleep, the differences between plane rides and train rides, the reasons I needed a bigger apartment, whether I would always have a bed for him in my house, whether grown people have daddies, and whether soda can kill you.

And then we got to the really deep stuff: Where is God? How can He be in heaven and with us on earth at the same time? Does God really hear us? Does God have a voice? What does it sound like? How can He live in heaven AND in our hearts at the same time?

I will openly confess that I did not have ready answers for all of his questions. I finally offered that God was like Superman or Spiderman. (Daniel is currently obsessed with superheroes.) So God is able to see everything, hear from far distances, and come quickly to us when we need Him. And that answer satisfied my beautiful, smart nephew – at least for the moment!

But I was mostly taken with the innocence of Daniel’s questions. Asked earnestly and spoken purely with just a yearning desire to know, and an assumption that I would have the answers.

As we get grown, we walk with so much cynicism. Over the years we build an armor around our hearts and our minds, and we take that armor into every situation and every relationship we have. Even our relationship with God. But if we really want to know God, we have to learn how to come to Him with the innocence and openness of children. Earnestly, purely, seeking to know His heart. You have questions? It’s all right to ask! Just the act of asking God for the answers is a statement of your faith: It shows that you believe that He has the answers you seek and that He is willing to share them with you. Maybe it’s time you and God had a stairway chat of your own . . .