What May Be Found

What may be found at the top of an unknown staircase? When I was a young child my uncle and cousins locked me in Grandma Elsie's attic on Baltimore Street. I knew that I should be afraid of that centennial house with hand-hewn beams and cascades of spiderwebs... but I just sat there in the darkness until I could see small beams of light cutting through.

This evening I stood at the bottom of a newly installed pull-down ladder inside of the old garage at Pass Creek Church in Pine Ridge. I stared up into the attic above and knew I had to climb. Memories of childhood wonder and adventures in old houses colored my mind as I escaped into Narnia.

What may be found when we're willing to really look? I mean, to look with more than just our eyes. To look with our memories, our wonder, and even our souls.

Tonight I begin our team devotional moment. The group seemed more vulnerable tonight, sharing real emotion, reaction, and thoughtful reflection. Eyes here are seeing again like a wonder-filled child, peering past the darkness and seeing slivers of light. 

Generations have crossed paths with the span of 60 years that covers the ages of our group. The energy of a teenager insects with the calm and wise assurance of age. We all grasp figurative hands as we see with spiritual eyes.

I stood there knowing that the devotional was winding to a close. The room was growing hot, chairs were beginning to shift, and everyone was dead-dog tired. I argued a bit with God. 

"I know I should pray, but I just don't know what else to add." The answer, "So don't pray." I responded, "Ok, that sounds good, no praying tonight for me. I guess someone else can pray." The response, "No. You don't want to pray to me, so don't make them." I thought... "Ugh." 

Again God prompts me, "So sing a song." I thought, "That's a great idea God, but I don't have a clue." I could picture God with a chuckle as He gently said, "Well, you never do."

And then He said to me, "But, someone in this room does."

With a smile on my face I looked up and said, "We're going to close this out with a song. I don't know what it is, but someone here does."

I was thinking of some sort of Bethel or Elevation bit of genius... when from my left a deep, rich bass voice began with the most perfect of words...

Jesus loves me this I know,
for the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to Him belong,
they are weak yet He is strong.

Yes, Jesus loves me.
Yes, Jesus loves me.
Yes, Jesus loves me.
The Bible tells me so.

I sang it out from the wonder-filled child of me that sat on the attic step, lost in the bright beams of light that shattered the dark space. I saw with more than my eyes the deep truth of Jesus' love in this space. 

I opened my tear-glistened eyes and met twenty-nine pairs of others who were with me and saw exactly what I had seen.

What May Be Found? That we are not alone.