At the gym today, I had my ipod on shuffle. I always do.
I think I like the mystery that comes with not knowing what song will come next. I enjoy the shift from Carrie Underwood to Dave Matthews to Lyle Lovett. I like that my ipod switches from the secular to the sacred in a moment. As was the case today...

I was pumping my arms, legs, and chubby abs on the rowing machine when Matt Chandler, pastor of The Village Church, told me to turn in my Bible to Hebrews 3. It had been a while since I listened to the Hebrews series, so I left him joking in my ear about his wife vomitting in some strange hotel room.

Hours later, here's the one thing I remember: Matt loves being at home. There's no place like it. And God is the same. Not that He dwells in homes or temples, but He does dwell in the places of His choosing- Heaven, the ordinary and beautiful of this world, the supernatural, your heart, and mine.

As I was racing through mile four, trying to outpace the guy on the treadmill next to me, I was vaguely aware of Matt's rambling. He kept talking about how much he adored that comfortable middle-cushion spot on his couch. And how God is like that. He's home. He's that middle-cushion. He's THAT type of God.

My heart quicked even though I was doing my cool down. My mind raced out of unison with my body. I realized in that unexpected moment: I don't know that facet of God.

I don't know the middle-cushion God.

I know a loving Abba. I know a strong protector. I know a Lord of Mercy. I know a provider. I know a Holy Spirit of wisdom and guidance. I know a Christ who gives of Himself. I know a Jesus who influenced by example and not mere words. I know so many good and true things about God.

But I don't know this middle couch cushion God.

You see, when I want to really relax and undo the top button on my jeans, I do so alone. When I let all the awkward, unpretty parts of me cascade into reality... I do so in the quiet and comfort of my home. I dance WHEN no body's watching. I sing WHEN no one's listening. And inviting God into that place scares me.

For God is divine, holy, and Perfect.
And I am grossly the opposite.

So, when I want to BE HOME, I do just that. And alone. Apart from the Holy and Perfect. Apart from the watchful eyes of my peers at school. Apart from the forgiving ears of my friends. Apart from the knowing hearts of my family. I am most free when no one's around. When I have no image to project and no reputation to protect.

How do I invite a holy God into the truest part of me? How do I let my hair down in the presence of Perfection? How do I dance in my pajamas in the presence of a divine King? How do I encounter this middle-cushion God who is my best companion even during my ugliest moments?

May I open my mind, heart, and soul to this unknown facet of my Lord.
May you, also, come to encouter a middle couch cushion God in all His unpredictable comfort and relaxation.