"Finding God at the bottom of all of our barrels" by Judy Knotts

Judy earned her doctorate in Educational Administration at Virginia Tech, studied at the University of Oxford, served as a National Advisory Board Member for Harvard University’s Principals’ Center, co-authored the book, Growing Wisdom, Growing Wonder, pens a religious column for the Austin American-Statesman, and is a cherished friend. The below was reprinted with permission.

This was dropped in my lap as I cruised along in my newly leased upscale, all-powerful, shiny vehicle that knows more than I do. The radio was doing its thing in the background. It was just white noise until these words leaped out at me - “You will find God in the bottom of the barrel.”

Barrel?  What barrel - yesterday’s barrel, today’s barrel?  Whose  barrel?  The bottom of my barrel? As I battle bronchitis for four weeks? As I grieve for my younger brother by five  years who died last month? As I realize that my son is more fragile than I am as a senior citizen. Will I find God here?

The bottom of your barrel? As I hear about a house that has not sold and the family is frantic. As I witness friends dueling with political swords and wounding each other gravely. As I talk to a woman in public housing who juggles bills like a Las Vegas dealer trying to decide who gets attention — the phone company, the utility company, the empty dog dish? Will I find God here?

The bottom of our barrel? As I realize that there is a man without legs who lives under the overpass, alone with his cardboard bed and Bible. As I watch once joyful relationships fade and die. As I try to navigate our new world with a divided nation, violence erupting in cities, and foreign countries fighting over land, religious dominance and economic control. Will I find God  here?

I am a master of out of sight, out of mind. Denial and escape are secret coping mechanisms for me and many of us, I suspect. In an imagined rain barrel full of water, the things that rise to the top grab my attention. These are the buoyant beautiful things that make me smile. So, I buy Christmas presents - toys for my young grandchildren and the new Glimmer Strings LED lights for the rest of the family. I relish Christmas carols and sing along. I bask in the banks of poinsettias and sparkling trees in church surrounding the manger scene. These are the easy things to grab and hold onto from my barrel.

For me, for you, for us, the buoyant beautiful things that float to the top of a rain barrel are much the same - new gadgets, sports, pets, parties, friends and family, entertainment, laughter, home, vehicles, food, celebrations, and the Internet.

Am I messing around with these lovelies floating to the top because I am reluctant to dig deeper to the bottom of the barrel where the force of gravity drags down things with weight? Here debris settles, the muck is thick, and everything is not so lovely. If I am brave enough to dig with bare hands, will I see the ugliness, the pain, the anger, the loneliness of the people unlike me and like me at the bottom? Will I see God as promised on the radio?

I know I avoid peering into the darkness at the bottom of the barrel because it is just too much to bear.  It demands excruciating focus on things I’d rather dismiss as not mine.  Still I hear the man on the radio saying: “You will find God in the bottom of the barrel” so I push myself and wonder:

Why did I walk past the person sleeping on the sidewalk with a bare foot sticking out of a dirty blanket while I hurried past to an upscale restaurant doing nothing, not even covering the foot in the freezing air?

Why did I hunker down at home and fret about my own minor illness, forgetting about those in hospitals, nursing homes and hospice  facilities?

Why did I paper over my personal failings while noticing and criticizing the arrogance and errors of other?

Why did I let impermanent things, the gifts, the lights and the music woo me into mere   amusement?

Still I’m trying. So I dig down almost to the bottom of the barrels - yours, mine, ours - finding rubble, wreckage, agony, despair, sickness, injury, brokenness, filth, lies, selfishness, abandonment and trash.

Now I’m digging deeper where there is guilt, forgiveness and hope. And I’m finding God.