He shows up

This **might** be the most certifiably nutso thing I’ve ever written.  In fact, this may not make sense to anyone but me…to everyone else it might be a little mental.  Go ahead and look up “Looney Bin” in the White Pages and be prepared to make that phone call to commit me if necessary.  But in the spirit of transparency and vulnerability, I wanted to share with you where God showed up today. 


Today, I saw God in a dumpster.  Hang with me, here.  Let me explain.


I was just sharing with a friend yesterday about my next tattoo idea.  (Am I too old and fat for this?  I don’t know…but inside I feel like a bit of a rebel trapped in a mom-bod.  And I still value body art that can be used to start conversations about Jesus.)  I have a concept in my mind of a night sky featuring the constellation Orion.    For many years, Orion has held profound meaning to me.  Not in a New-Age-y, astrological kind-of-way…but in a beautiful communion with the Creator kind-of-way.  I’ve written about him a couple times before: here (http://beehnfamily.blogspot.com/2016/08/orion-is-rising.html) and here (https://beehnfamily.blogspot.com/2017/08/portrait-of-old-friend.html)


Call me crazy, but Orion has felt like a friend to me during the changing of several difficult seasons.  I love the night sky, and feel especially close to God when I’m looking up at His creation.  Eclipses thrill me; shooting starts amaze me.   It’s just something special that I share with Jesus.  While eclipses and shooting stars are occasional events, night after night, from late summer until early spring, no celestial body is more constant for me than Orion.  It has happened hundreds of times that no matter what direction I’m looking, he is the first thing that catches my eye when I look up at night.  And every time I see him, standing there strong and unchanging, it’s like I can hear the voice of the Spirit whispering, “I’m here.”  He has been there with me during some of the darkest nights in Haiti, and some of the saddest nights since being back in the US.  And late last December, when we crossed the border into Arkansas, driving a U-Haul of possessions we would need to start over again, Orion was gigantic on the horizon.  He has been a stronghold for me.   Simply put, Orion reminds me of God’s presence through every changing season.


The problem is that there are some times when Orion isn’t visible.  He is a winter constellation.  Just before dawn in the late summer, he makes his seasonal debut rising low in the sky in the East.  And by early Spring, he is setting in the West just as darkness begins to fall.  Then, for several months, he’s not visible at all.  It’s like radio silence.  He’s obviously still out there in the heavens, but from where we stand in the United States, we simply can’t see him. 


That’s where I’m at right now.  From where I'm standing, I can't see Him.  Literally, we are in the season when the constellation can’t be seen; but also, spiritually, I’m also feeling a radio silence from God Himself.   I know He’s still there…yet it feels like He has disappeared from my view for a while.  Have you ever been there?


Today has been especially gross.  It’s dark and rainy, which matches my mood.   Several unresolved  issues have contributed to an unparalleled season of despair for me.  I’m tired of being down-in-the-dumps all the time, but I simply can’t shake it on my own.   I am at the place where I’m longing—aching!—for a fresh encounter with Jesus.  Just yesterday, as I was explaining my tattoo plan to my friend, I was actually feeling sad that Orion was out of view during these months.  I need to see Him again.  I need the reminder of the presence of the Lord.  I need Him to show up.


Well, look.  Today, I got out of bed long enough to take my daughter to work, and as I left, I drove around the back of the coffee shop where I have passed many times before.  But today, despite the torrential downpour happening outside the car, this caught my eye:

Yes, it’s a trash dumpster.  But to my heart, it was a little wink, a little kiss from Jesus.  It’s like He’s saying, “Daughter, I’m here.  I’m in the yuckiest, dirtiest, messiest places of your life.   I never left you, and I never will.”


Yes, Lord. I don't even care how crazy it sounds.  Today, He reminded me of His presence at a time when I really needed it--I even think His method of revealing Himself actually reflects a bit of His humor!  A dumpster!  An ORION dumpster!  Get it?  Because He knows I'm "down in the DUMPS"!  He’s so sweet and tender.  His kindness is beautiful, His love is personal.  And He never leaves, even if we can't see Him through our tears on a dark night.