Every moment of every day people around the world ask themselves and the universe at large “Why does God Hate me?” “Where has God Gone?” Sometimes I smile when I look up or around myself. Sometimes I think “I just saw God.”
Sometimes I see him in the old man that walks by me as I walk whalley and smiles at me with a knowing smile.
Sometimes she is in the pain I am suffering during a bad day when I know she’s pushing me to see how much I can handle.
My beautiful friend Charis wrote this today and I stole it because I think that it says so much about how we think about Faith and God, about our own spirituality and our connection with the universe at large. I hope and yes even pray that you love it as much as I do. To protect her privacy I have chosen not to add the picture that she included in the post.
I woke up convinced that God had died this morning; but then she came and met me at a bus stop.
I woke up pretty riled this morning. As I left my place on my way to work, I became more and more convinced that God is dead. Or sleeping. Or just plain not here. I called out to every name I knew them by and finally settled on cursing Love; wondering where they went, why they’re leaving us empty. And as my music gets louder and my feet move faster, my sense of abandonment grows until I finally sit to stew at a bus stop and scroll through the news for more details on today’s fresh deaths.
Little brown fingers start scrolling my screen and I realize that I haven’t even noticed her. I don’t know how long she’s been sitting pressed up next to me, but here she is, nearly on my lap, stealing all my attention.
And she talks to me; about summer camp, about my purple hair, about her Dad’s truck being taken in for repairs so she’s taking the bus with Mom this week. I’m looking around for her mother and notice her instantly standing about 15 feet away – just smiling and watching as her baby seemingly just does what she does. Her name is Rose, she turns 6 on the 30th of January (which is only a couple of months away, she insists), and she LOVES theatre camp.
She also likes the toggles on my hoodie, so I pull my hood over my head and tell her to give them a good tug; and she laughs as my face disappears from view. Now I’m laughing behind the fleece as she searches for my face to free it, only to pull the toggles down again with high pitched giggling. We laugh and laugh, and laugh some more until both of us are just two little girls giggling under a bus shelter in the rain.
I woke up convinced that God had died this morning; but then she came and met me at a bus stop and touched my pain with laughter. I’m so thankful for Rose today. She can’t fix the world or bring back the dead, but she chose to love a stranger at a bus stop and that’s something.
Wishing peace for you in this pain, friends. Be kind to each other.