The Compass That Leads Me Home

Recently I’ve been learning about the Holy Spirit in ways that I’ve never been taught before. I’ve always been told about who God is and who Jesus was but the third part of the trinity? Well sometimes I feel like I’ve forgotten about it, and others would say they’re guilty of it too. It’s been interesting to learn more about the Holy Spirit through a trinitarian theology class I am currently taking in my master’s program. As the Sandra McCracken song goes, the Holy Father, Son, and Spirit are in communion with one another: “three in one”. The Holy Spirit is like its own separate entity or person, distinct in the trinity but yet still unified in the trinity. I’ve often heard of the Holy Spirit referred to as a sort of “moral compass”, that reorients followers of Christ back towards where they belong. It’s as if whenever we seem to throw off the orientation arrow of this compass, it has a mysterious way of repositioning itself. In essence, it’s an object that seems to guide the lost people of this world back to what really matters. What I mean by the phrase “really matters” is what I’ll come to talk about here shortly, but what must be noted first is how this compass moves in a way that words cannot completely and accurately depict. Mysterious is the best word I can think of in that this compass is truly sometimes enigmatic, at least in my case. But to truly understand just how mysterious it is, I first must explain what has led me to this realization.

This year has been full of hardship, pain, suffering, disease, and injustice for so many people. The coronavirus pandemic, divisive politics, natural disasters, economic hardships, etc., are just a few global events that have caused disproportionate harm to so many people. Furthermore, a lot of people have faced personal tragedy that even adds to the ongoing issues of our time. It seems difficult to try to find answers to so many questions, given just how hard things have been. For me, this couldn’t be truer. I have written before about how doubt can be such an inexplicable concept sometimes, especially in the Christian faith. Doubt can encourage reliance on God but sometimes doubt can be so tricky to even navigate through that I truly wonder if it really does serve any purpose, other than to separate us from God. I think I have more doubt now than I have ever before in my life. For those of you who don’t know, I lost my father this summer after a 5-year battle of cancer. He fought, persevered, and pushed through more than anything I have ever witnessed in my entire life. He truly embraced a warrior mentality and never gave up. As I reflect on his life and his impact, I am reminded of all the great things he did but just can’t help noticing how lost I feel. A piece of my life that was once there for my family, is now gone. When I look for answers as to why something like this could happen or as to how it could happen, there is no explanation. I only come up even more empty handed.

As a result, I sometimes want to turn away from God. In my mind, if I don’t have answers to provide some comfort or certainty during the pain of grief and loss, then I have no desire to engage with Jesus. So, I run. In a spiritual sense, I run as a far as I can. When I’m tired of running, I turn my head and ignore. I refuse to acknowledge what’s true. And instead I try to cling to anything else other than God. But yet I still feel an internal presence brewing that I can’t really explain. Even in all the pain, sorrow, and grief I still feel a nudge and a pull. The feeling is like a rope and chain that never lets loose and keeps bringing me back over and over. It’s a compass that repositions itself and places me along a path that I often don’t want to travel. But yet in my heart, it’s a path I know that I need to be on. So, I walk, and I walk, not knowing where I’m going. I stumble and I fall but I still experience a spirit that helps me get back up. I can’t see it, but I know that it is there. It’s truly enigmatic. I often can’t describe it at all. Even thinking about it just makes me so confused on where to begin. I’m certain of its presence but yet I’m still so uncertain about how or even if I can fully depict it. Sometimes, I feel as if I truly will never be able to fully describe the magnitude of this spirit. The beauty of the certainty though is that I know that it is there, and that I have to trust that it is the compass of the Holy Spirit.

In my doubt, in my pain, in the midst of it all, this scary level of trust makes me feel that I am headed back home. I am headed towards the very gift that permeates all attempts at understanding, restores everything that is broken and heals all wounds: love. Love reminds me that as I wrestle with doubt, I may not know all the answers or even find any answers. Love reminds me that comfort can be a myth. As C.S. Lewis puts it, “In religion, as in war and everything else, comfort is the one thing you cannot get by looking for it. If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end: if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth.” This is challenging for me though because it is my natural reaction to always want to find comfort first. I often equate eliminating uncertainty with comfort. But in my spiritual journey, that is just not how things work. The comfort I think I want is not actually the comfort I am getting. The comfort that I actually get is from the truth that is revealed when I acknowledge the presence of God. When I realize that my compass is pointing me home, it is setting me on a path to find truth. The comfort isn’t my acquiring of answers to all or even some of my questions. The comfort is in the simple fact that God will always yearn for me to come back home. The comfort is in the revealing of the trinity’s presence in various aspects of my life. The comfort is in the people around me, who pour into me as I pour into them, a mutual exchange of reciprocal divine love. If this is truly the comfort that I really need, then my quest is to always look for truth. The good news is that my compass while spectacularly mysterious, seems to really lead me home, even if that’s not where I always want to go. I have come to realize too that Dad is home and is alive more than ever. Not only my earthly father but also my heavenly Father. Also, because of this great truth, it is now my place where I turn forward with awe and amazement even while I am uncertain about a great many things. Like when my dad bought me my first compass for my boy scout trips, it is my turn to look ahead and say “Father, show me the way and lead me home.”