Face to Face
I am certainly not an expert on human growth and development, but I’ve spent enough time around people to know this: we don’t become whole through information alone.
Attachment theory puts language to something deeply human. Children grow up healthier and more resilient when they have a secure attachment with a parent or caregiver. When a baby is distressed, they don’t calm themselves through insight or willpower. They calm by looking into a face that is calm, responsive, and present.
Without that kind of presence, the nervous system becomes anxious and unsettled. But with it, something deep inside begins to settle.
While I was growing up, I had one dominant image of my father. Several times throughout each day, he would hold up one finger to me asking me to wait.
“Wait, I am reading the paper.”
“Wait, I am on the phone.”
“Wait, I am very busy… don’t bother me.”
And ever so slowly, I began to assume that God was like that too. A God who was too busy to be interrupted. A God who had more important things to do than attend to my small concerns. Ever since I have been on a quest to discover how to feel close to God.
In the Old Testament, there is a common Hebrew word: Pānîm.
It is often translated as either “face,” or “presence.” The two ideas are inseparable. To be in someone’s presence is to be before their face.
Here are a couple examples:
The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace. Numbers 6:24–26
Listen for the language of attachment:
A shining face is warmth, welcome, and delight.
A turned face is attention and attunement.
The connection with God is what brings peace. This is relational language. God is not distracted. He is not preoccupied. He is oriented toward us.
Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame. Psalm 34:5
Again, the same language of attachment:
Looking leads to transformation.
Radiance and joy grows in the presence of love.
Shame loses its grip when we are truly seen.
We change not just by thinking new thoughts, but by experiencing God’s presence. Looking at God who is looking at us.
If I’m honest, this is where my own faith felt thin for a long time. I knew a great deal about God. I could study, explain, and even teach the Scriptures. But I was far less familiar with simply being with Him… or allowing myself to be seen.
No one had really taught me how to sit in God’s presence or to share what I was really feeling. No one had helped me notice His gaze. And without that, it’s easy for faith to become something we manage rather than a relationship we experience.
