Presence

Outside on a recent morning, everything felt so much more alive. Despite an enveloping fog, the evergreens appeared greener; even bare trunks and branches seemed awake, not dormant. Of course, little had changed in the previous 24 hours—but at some level, and for some unknown reason, I had. The difference wasn’t what I was seeing, but how—with eyes that were considerably more attentive.

“All presence depends on consciousness,” writes John O’Donohue in Anam Cara. “Where consciousness is dulled, distant, or blind, the presence grows faint and vanishes.”

I’m guessing the same could be said of God. Where consciousness is dulled, distant, or blind (as is so often the case in a world fraught with distraction), God’s presence grows faint and vanishes. So, finding God is a matter of staying alert. It’s not a question of God’s proximity, but rather our openness.

Asked why the kingdom of God can’t be seen, Jesus explained, “The kingdom of God is in you.” (Luke 17:20-21). If that’s the case, we do well to foster awareness.

I received a compelling holiday note from a former sister-in-law, who shared her evolving emotions following the suicide of her son, Brandon, nearly two years ago. Kathy believes that Brandon, like God, remains ever present. “I feel a closeness,” she wrote, “that I had never felt before. I see the world so much differently—and when times get tough, something happens to remind me he is right here with me, and somehow everything seems like it will be okay.”

Kathy’s on to something—and I sense her insight extends beyond the spirits of departed loved ones. So much more might be similarly palpable, if we invite the possibility.  

Cultivating such openness is good practice for the trip. Whenever I do, it seems God is everywhere. At the end of the road, that would be quite a discovery.