Scavenger Hunt

My son's youth group did a scavenger hunt yesterday at church.

I didn't ask him the kinds of things they were supposed to look for but I have been thinking about my own hunt, as I scavenge (is that even a word?) through life looking for purpose. Looking for God's glory. For comfort. Love. Beauty.

Is there holiness in raising my face to the sun and letting it dry the tears that stream down my face, escaping my tightly squeezed eyelids?

Is there holiness in sitting at my desk, reaching for the words to describe God's truth, and being distracted by a huge spider that meanders, uninvited, along the baseboard, among electrical cords?

Is God's glory in snoring spouses?

Is there something divine in stitches from surgery and post-op meds that are instantly bitter on the tongue but stave off infection in the body?

My theology is challenged in the dichotomy of the divine and the mundane.

Yes, God is present in all of it. He made the sun's warmth. The unwelcome arachnid is His creation, too. (Ew!) He's in the nearness of noisy breathing. In the healing process. In my triumphs and in my epic fails.

He is everywhere and in everything.

And He wants to be found. To be seen. To be embraced and sought after.

This is my scavenger hunt list:

One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple. (Psalm 27:4)

Reveal yourself to me, Lord. Show me your beauty and your glory in everything today. Amen.