stand in the gap

A few summers ago, my husband and I took a short vacation to Collingwood. Neither of us had been there before, but we had heard so many good things from friends and family, so we decided to check it out for ourselves. We booked a little tent site at a local provincial park, and were excited to not only explore a new place, but also experience our first real camping trip together. We arrived at the park to find the front desk closed and some instructions in an envelope on how to get to our campsite. They also requested that we check in at the office in the morning when it reopened. Okay, so this park was even more remote than we had originally realized, but boy, was I excited about this little adventure. 

A little background on me—I practically grew up in the woods. Anything and all things nature always gives me an unmatched sense of peace. I love the calm, the quiet, and the promise of “nothing” to do and no impending schedule to follow. There isn’t much to distract you from your thoughts when you’re out in nature and away from the hustle of regular life. And I crave that. It’s in those quiet places where I also hear God the most. And if I were being honest, when we headed out on this trip, I was really needing some time alone with God. 

Back in 2020, like many, I became accustomed to a slower pace of life. But in less than three years since, life seemed to pick right back up to a speed that my soul couldn’t keep up with. Thankfully, in the spring of 2023, God convicted me to leave space that upcoming summer. Space for quiet, nature, and God was not what was filling my calendar, and I was desperate for a drink from the well. 

Wow, yeah—desperate for a drink from the well. I know we can all relate to that. I’m sure I will write more on that another time, but for now, I want to focus on the beautiful moment that occurred at that remote provincial park outside of Collingwood. 

Before going on that trip, I had made a pretty big decision. My job with the school board ended in June, and my husband and I agreed that I needed to work less. I was overwhelmed and on the verge of burning out. So here I was, working one part-time job instead of the two, three, or four that I had been bouncing between for the past few years. It was a scary decision but it was also so freeing. It had allowed me to tune my ears and fix my eyes on Jesus again. 

It seems so simple writing it out now, but in that season I had come to realize and admit that I needed a fresh encounter with my first love. I needed to remember why I loved Him in the first place and be totally and completely open to His presence again. 

All this to say, this camping trip fell during my summer longing to hear from God. There is so much I could say about this entire summer, but this one profound moment still stands out to me. 

If you’ve never been to Collingwood or this remote provincial park, here’s a quick snapshot. 

First, the park is small, and it runs lengthwise along the edge of the Georgian Bay. Not sure how we got lost trying to find our campsite, but even so, we did find it eventually. As we set up camp, we quickly realized that we were so close to the water that we could see and hear it from our site. We also forgot our sound machine for sleeping, so I was pretty jacked about the one Mother Nature provided instead. 

I had big, simple plans for our time there: sit, read, and walk along the water a time or two. 

On our last morning, I made myself a tea and, after spending a little time in my bible, headed for the water’s edge. Walking along the rocks I just listened, talked to God, and observed the few other people who had the same morning plan as me. 

I was quickly drawn in by the sight of a young boy building an incredible inuksuk. He was so proud of what he had accomplished, and I could hear him yelling down the shore, “LOOK DAD! DAD, LOOK! DAD! LOOK!” His dad didn’t seem to hear him, or at the very least wasn’t acknowledging that he had heard him, but the boy was persistent. The boy, yelling again and again, appeared to be growing weary in his pursuit of a simple glance from his father. 

I felt for the boy. All he wanted was for his father to look, to see what he had done, and to maybe smile or come and tell him that he had done a good job. That he was proud of him. 

However, something even more  beautiful happened instead. The whole time the boy was yelling down the shore, his mom was standing right next to him. She quickly realized that his dad wasn’t coming, so she turned to her son, took out her phone, and offered to take a photo. She smiled at him, praised him, and acknowledged the hard work her son had put into creating this rock masterpiece. The boy smiled back and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief that at least someone had recognized his work and was proud of him. Someone had shown him love.

At this moment I too smiled, and as I stood there, the gentle words “stand in the gap” came flooding into my mind. 

I asked God, “What do you mean, stand in the gap?” 

Again it was pressed upon my heart what God was saying—this mother was showing a perfect example of what it means to stand in the gap between a desperate son or daughter and their father. As I unpacked this further, I became overwhelmed by the realization that this was what God was asking me to do. Stand in the gap on behalf of his children. No matter their age, no matter their understanding of who Jesus is, I can stand in the gap. 

If you are a living, breathing human, you are called a son or daughter. Son or daughter of a heavenly father who loves you so deeply. You may not believe in this heavenly father just yet, but if you do, I’m guessing that you have probably cried out to Him a time or two. 

Now I have a question for you. It’s honesty time. 

Does it ever seem that God doesn’t hear you when you call His name? Or maybe He does hear you, but it feels like He’s choosing not to acknowledge your cries. 

I know I’ve been there, calling His name and wondering when He’s going to respond to my call. And I’ve also experienced someone coming and standing in that gap for me. Acknowledging my voice, caring for me, and creating a bridge between me and my heavenly father. 

Since the moment this happened, I have carried these words close to my heart, wondering who I can stand in the gap for. Who is right in front of me who needs to know they are heard, seen, and loved? Who can I intercede for, cheer for, and stand beside in their pursuit of fatherly affection? 

Sometimes God feels far away and hard to reach. I know because I’ve been there too. But I now wonder—who is standing near you? Who may be willing to journey with you? Who may help you close that gap by simply being there and speaking the words “I’m proud of you”,  or by turning their face toward you and giving you affection that resembles that of your heavenly father? 

If you’re still seeking, I want to encourage you to keep going. Don’t stop calling. Don’t stop searching. He’s not as far away as He may feel at this moment. 

And if you do know the Lord already, maybe it’s time to ask Him who you can intentionally care for. Who can you intercede and pray for? Who can you speak life into? Where can you build a bridge for a desperate child who can’t quite hear God’s voice or feel His presence? Maybe a name popped into your head, maybe two. And maybe, just maybe, he’s telling you it’s time to stand in the gap. 

No matter where you are on this crazy, beautiful journey, may these verses be a prayer that washes over you and comforts you.

“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

Edited by Allison Wicks