Spirit, I Trust You

Lately I’ve been swimming in the waters of the Holy Spirit—full immersion. In life and in story. In teaching and learning. Preparing weekly Bible studies. Talks for youth. A book discussion. 

Living water.

Breath and Wind.

Like a dove he descends…  

And the thing I can say for sure about our God as Spirit—

He is not content to remain a metaphor. Not one one to be tucked into text, or confined to academics. Oh no. Our Spirit God is quick to break free of the classroom. 

He prefers the field trip. And he bids me to come and join him. 

“The Spirit is alive and he is relational. Not a power or a force or a tool or a thing. The Spirit is GOD.” 

I introduce him this way to the youth group, knowing it’s hard. Knowing TRINITY is a baffling concept. And yet, we can know him. He wants to be known. Like God the Father, and Jesus the Son. The Holy Spirit—before he’s anything else—is a relational being. 

(Some scholars have even called him personified love.)

The Bible tells a story from beginning to end, but the story doesn’t stop with the last book written. The story is ongoing. The story is happening NOW. 

I remind the students, and I remind myself, too. Before Jesus returned to heaven, he promised the Spirit. The Spirit who has always been, now takes center stage. He becomes the key player. The main way God comes to us NOW is as SPIRIT. 

Jesus said, “I won’t leave you alone. I will come to you.” (John 14:18) 

He did come and he stayed and he is with us still. As Spirit. 

I share my own stories. With the students. With women in a Bible study. With the couples in our life group. 

I share stories of hearing the voice of the Spirit. Of receiving his love and wisdom. Of his power breaking me free of sin. Life-changing stories and everyday stories. A lifetime of getting to know God as Spirit. 

And then. 

I share a current story. A story of knowing his voice. Not audible, but loud and clear. Yet shrouded in mystery. I tell what I can with my limited perspective about a story I am right now living. A story I’m all the way in. 

There’s a Celtic nickname for the Holy Spirit. They call him Wild Goose, and no wonder. 

“The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” (John 3:8)

Jesus said this to Nicodemus, about being born again. (Talk about a shift from classroom to field trip. From teacher to infant.) 

So here I am in my current day story, hearing his voice, following his lead. And for a while he seems to be shockingly clear. “Could it be this easy?” I say this out loud. Maybe wishing I hadn’t. 

Because just about the time you form some sort of expectation the Wind shifts and the Goose is calling you to change directions. 

Still leading.

Still loving. 

Still very real.

And very much God. 

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. (Genesis 1:1-2) 

The Spirit hovering over chaos, bringing order. A timely reminder. Wild Goose he might be, but never disorder. Never confusion. 

The Spirit creates order.

The Spirit creates life. 

“I trust you, Spirit.” I’m actually not sure if I’ve ever prayed this before. 

God, I trust you. 

Jesus, I trust you. 

But Spirit? 

Do I mistrust the wind of Spirit? 

To be truly immersed in Spirit waters I must let go. 

I let him take me. I choose to trust.