Roll Call: Who is present?

“At the very beginning God created the heavens and the earth as the place of his presence …. The Scriptures, from beginning to end, tell the marvelous story of God returning his presence to all creation. It was always God’s intent to be with his creation in the fullness of his presence.” David E. Fitch, Faithful Presence 

Photo by The Creative Exchange on Unsplash

Being present in our own lives has become increasingly challenging; there is so much noise all around, so many opportunities and activities available to us, and so many distractions make it so difficult. Being aware and tuned into God’s presence around us can be doubly challenging. I suspect, though, that if we were not distracted to God and what he is up to around us, then we would be present in our lives as well. This last week the prayer I’ve been repeating several times a day is simply, “Help me to be present to your presence.”

I’ve been meeting with a small group of women every week since September. The time we have spent together has been loosely structured around exercises that help us move from being casual acquaintances to having spiritual friendships. It’s turned out to be so valuable to all of us that though this week was supposed to be our last, we’ve decided we’re going to keep hanging out on Tuesday nights and checking in on each other. (If anyone else is interested in starting their own group you can find resources here: https://baptistwomen.com/resources/soul-sisters/.)

This week’s exercise was a quiet time of personal reflection modelled after the ancient practise of examen. In examen God’s presence is invited in as you go through a series of exercises designed to help you process the day that has just passed through a God-filter. One of the exercises was to think back and identify the “God moments” in the day; those moments when we were aware of him, and then we were asked to consider what he was doing in those moments.

Last week I spent two days at workshops jam-packed with stimulating material, and I could have pointed to many God moments, but this day had been pretty quiet. In my estimation, it was humdrum – an appointment with the chiropractor in the morning, a second appointment to bring the car over to the garage half a block down the street, and then writing quietly at my desk the rest of the day until my meeting with the ladies in the evening. I couldn’t really point to anything in the day as a God-moment.

Why do we assume God isn’t in the quiet, ordinary, and even boring days? Is it because we’re like Elijah on Mt. Horeb, expecting God to show himself in spectacular ways, like hurricanes, earthquakes and fire? To be fair, that is exactly how Elijah had known God up until then – in jaw-dropping miracles. But those mighty acts of the divine that show-cased his power didn’t bear the results they should have. Instead of causing the on-lookers to turn away from the empty worship of an impotent Baal god to follow a God who hears and responds to his people, they sought to kill Elijah, his representative. Now, at Mt. Horeb, in what was a turning point of the great prophet’s career, God showed Elijah that he was no longer revealing himself through fantastic displays of might, but in quietness, a voice, a low whisper, something that had the feeling of a thin silence. (Elijah’s story is recorded in the Old Testament book of 1 Kings.)

You have to be listening to hear a whisper. In the quiet moments of our examen, God showed me that what I thought to be an uneventful day was actually a day in which he was present in a myriad of ways.

He was present when I prayed my prayer, “Help me to be present to your presence” before I went in to the treatment room for my chiropractor’s appointment. At last week’s appointment I fumbled over my words when the doctor asked me about my work, feeling awkward about trying to explain this blogging thing. This time, though, I had the words, and space opened up in which a real conversation happened, and a real connection was made. Real is hard to find, some days. He was also present later on in the day as I sat at my desk in a wrestling match with words that wouldn’t come. “Help me to be present to your presence,” I prayed again. As my mind settled down, the sentences started to form.

Beyond those moments, though, God brought to mind the kindnesses of many people whose lives had intersected mine. Kindness is a characteristic of love which is the essence of God, so where there is kindness, he is always present. There was the police officer who pulled me over for speeding and charged me for much less than he rightfully could have so he could reduce my fine by two thirds and so I didn’t lose demerit points. There were the ladies at the chiropractor’s office where I was speeding to and ended up being twenty minutes late – it was “not a problem” they said. There was the big smile of genuine pleasure on the face of an old acquaintance from another town at a chance meeting in the same office. There was the couple who run the garage down the street who always, without fail, hand me a bill for much less than I expect it will be. Then there was the warm hug and kiss on the cheek I got from Marilyn, a senior woman in our Tuesday night group, and in whose home we gather. All kindnesses. All moments in which God was present.

At the end of the day my eyes are opened to how he is present, and I see more God-moments. After my morning appointment I decided to get off the highway and take the scenic route home. I drove slowly along country roads, stopping sometimes to take in the views. I revelled in the massive, brilliantly-coloured maple trees displaying their glory against an equally brilliant blue sky. I smiled at the sight of an Amish teenage boy dressed in his drab grays and tall, sturdy rubber boots. He was pinning sparkling white and bright pink sheets to a long clothes line that stretched in a V shape between house and tree and back again. I noted a mama horse and her long-legged baby in a green pasture, a small fenced field at the roadside containing a tightly gathered herd of sheep with thick, dingy wool, and another one in the distance dotted with independently-minded goats. In the evening, Michaela, another member of the Tuesday crew, proudly offered me a “gluten-free, sugar-free” cookie. My spontaneous response was, “What good is that?!” and we all laughed, feeling good because we have gotten past the need for exaggerated politenesses.

All this his creation. All this filled with his presence. All of these God-moments, but only realized and treasured for what they are when I paused at the end of the day to pay attention to my own life.

Who is present today?