Good company in small spaces
“What could you only learn by going into a tent with God?”
This was the question posed to me and a handful of others tonight.
Temporary shelters, booths, tents…different translations of the bible use different words to describe the Feast of Tabernacles in Leviticus 23. God declared a feast, or a festival, and an integral part of it was that the Israelites got to camp with God in a tent for a week.
Everyone else in the room tonight seemed to have heard the question posed in a way that meant “what could the Israelites only learn by going into a tent with God?”. Me? I heard it more personally, I guess. And I wondered…what could I only learn by going into a tent with God?
So I asked. I like asking Him questions like this because He always answers them, and He almost always surprises me in some way. He thinks such big thoughts.
So…what do You want to say to me? What do You want to teach me that I can only learn in here? What do You want me to know?
I want you to know how much space we take up.
Ok…how much space do we take up?
All of it. You and I take up all the space in the tent. Every last bit of it.
I thought about it for a moment and understood that it was true.
Oh, and outside the tent? Same answer. We take up all the space, you and I.
That’s about the point where my brain went on tilt.
It took me a while to get my bearings enough to ask why it was important for me to know this. But then I remembered: anytime it’s me + God, I’m in the majority.
I thought about the size of the God that sends me out, backs me up, covers me, takes me higher, takes me lower, makes me stronger, takes me to absolute weakness. Somehow, the fullness of Him can fit into a little tent with me. And yet, He is not diminished outside the tent.
More brain tilt.
Before the evening was out my brain was nearly upside down.
And that’s ok. I kinda like it that way.