As a pastor, you often sense God's pleasure most in the moments you see and actively engage with people. This is beautiful and good. What is not so easy is to detect whether you want Him when no one is in front of you. 

In 2019 when Covid prevented many of those pastoral interactions with people, I experienced this curiosity for intimacy that was different from my standard disciplines. So one day, I committed to spending one hour every day, rain or shine, except for Saturdays, to go be with Him in the forest. I committed to pursuing in practice a friendship that, deep down, I wanted more than anything for no other reason than practicing time with Jesus. I had no idea that this one decision would change my life.

In the beginning, I would verbalize these three statements out loud to Jesus as I enter the forest:

• First, I would say, "God, I am not here for the exercise" (I would say this out loud).
  
  

• Second, I would say, "If you're going to speak to me, God, it has to be you." I would tell him, "I do not want to get to heaven and find out I had a really weird relationship with my own brain." You may smirk, but I would genuinely say this out loud because I knew I wanted to share with Jesus that I believed He still speaks (John 10:27). Sometimes, we need to tell Him what we want in our relational journey.
  
  

• Third, I would say, "Lord, Your Word says, 'seek your face, then I would say, ‘Oh Lord, your face do I seek.’” (Psalm 27). 

Then, I would simply walk and invite Him out loud to come and walk with me. I would begin by sharing whatever was on my heart, burdens, people, and the grind of ministry. I had a prayer list I would read through. Throughout the walks, I would ask, "is there anything you want to say?" For about two to three weeks (which is a long time doing this every day), I would only hear one thing “I love you.” When I kept hearing that, I thought, "well, that's nice... and biblical.” So I would say thank you. Then something began happening in my spirit: this sweet awareness of being loved. I couldn't wait to go back the next day. There was a tangible sense of Him. 

About a month later, I was behind in preparing my sermon for Sunday that particular week, so I skipped my walk one morning to study. As I pressed into the text, I suddenly had this gentle thought come over me "we didn't walk today." I smiled and said, "Jesus, I have to write your sermon. I don't have time.” Then I thought, “what am I doing?” I shut my computer and drove to the forest, thinking, "okay, James, this is real; you are really not going to have a finished sermon this week.” That is not my normal. I usually have a printed manuscript that I go over multiple times when I have to preach.

I can't explain what I experienced next with words, but I'll try. When I pulled into the parking lot of the forest entrance, a lightness of joy rushed over me, and as I walked into the opening of the forest I had walked for weeks, I could feel a recognized felt presence. I experienced His love and rest, smiling with laughter under each breath. 

I thought, "no way He's this real.” I said, “I just didn't know being with you could feel this happy and satisfying.” It was as if I couldn't get Him to stop loving me. I didn't even pray. I just walked because I was so happy to know that I would carry Him in the pulpit and that those weeks weren't about discipline but friendship. 

Although I love studying with the beautiful advantages of expository study, I felt that Sunday that what I wanted most in every sermon was to bring in the time I spent with HIM. That week I told a pastor without even thinking, "If I ONLY have 30 minutes left in my week and my sermon isn't done, and I have the choice to grab a commentary and finish the sermon or go into the forest to get His heart and presence; its the forest every time."

On a recent walk with The Three, on a morning I was preaching, I said this sentence to God that I didn't know was in me: "So, Lord, I'm preaching today," and then right when I was going to ask for help and grace, I stopped and just said, "Jesus, EVEN if it doesn't go well today, I still get to come back here tomorrow." When I said that, I was wondrously shocked. Sometimes you don't know where you are until you're surprised by it. I didn't know that —the simple enjoyment of our walks—was what I enjoyed most. 

The word radiant means' sending out light; shining or glowing brightly.' When you know He's walking with you, His radiant countenance and the rest of His love, His peace, and His nature is around you—that awareness is the new reason you're alive.