There is a moment when things change. A moment that makes all the difference between one thing and another. Back in the day, when I was little, they sold these postage stamps that had been in space. NASA sent stamps up in the shuttle for a mission and then sold them as mementos. The stamp itself was no different than any other stamp you could buy around the corner—BUT IT HAD BEEN IN SPACE—it was the moment that gave it significance. Something happened to change them.
Our lives are like this: we are constantly on the move, constantly changing, constantly jumping from moment to moment. God, too, is not static—God creates but then strolls in the garden at the time of the evening breeze; God wanders with the Israelites in the wilderness for 40 years; God incarnates—God becomes human and grows and learns and travels. God, in Jesus, does a surprising amount of wandering. He’s always on the road to somewhere or meeting people as they’re on the way. He couldn’t even stay put in death but left an empty tomb and questions behind him, only to meet a couple of his disciples on the road to Emmaus.
C.S. Lewis wrote about this traveling God in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. You remember, the characters saying that Aslan—the lion who was king and also God—“Aslan is on the move.” God is on the move. This is not a God who is content in one place. This life is not going to stay put and neither is our relationship with God. We are complicated people, you and I. We love God one minute, but the next are so angry we could spit. We worship in ecstasy and doubt with passion. We are apathetic. We sin, we repent, we give up on the whole business. And that’s ok. Hear, O Israel—where you are on your Exodus road, where you are on your road to Emmaus, where you are on your spiritual journey is ok. Notice it. Embrace it.