different

About a month ago, I was sitting in class, watching my professor write on the board, when suddenly I became very aware of God's presence. Huge. Filling everything, and yet invisible. I'm not sure how else to describe it. While life in the classroom continued, my soul was looking around the room, silent in awe. It was unexpected, not sought after, completely "other." I sat, waited with bated breath, listened, felt. There were no words that came, only a growing sense that this God was different. This Being was more. Bigger. Deeper. Closer. Grander. Different. Different than I knew. Different than I expected.

Last week I wrote about my time running about the forest, climbing trees, forging through the brush rather than taking the path. Out there I was struck by the realization from that moment in the classroom - there's something different about this Being we call God, something I don't yet know, something I don't think I could possibly predict.

This week I'll be leaving for 10 days to build homes on the island of Kaua'i. And I don't know what to expect. In many ways I feel like a short-term trip like this is often not worth the cost, or not truly beneficial for the community, but I believe in the work of Habitat for Humanity and I believe that there might be something bigger God wants to do in me. Something different. Something I can't predict.

And so I would be grateful for your prayers - for safety, for team unity, for effective work. But also that my eyes, ears, hands, head, heart, and gut would be waiting for signs of God, the Creator. That this great Being would do something different. And that I would follow.