god is closer than you think

My apologies to John Ortberg, but his title is just so great, that I pilfered it for this column. (I am reading his book right now, “borrowing” hubby’s Christmas gift before he even cracked it open. Shhh - he’ll never know.)

Ortberg is one of my favorite authors - he has the ability to combine flat out truth with humor in a way that constantly astonishes me, and I must confess makes me a tad bit envious. The phrases that he manages to come up with are just brilliant (at least in my humble humor-writer’s opinion.) But, I did not set out to talk about a writer, but rather a topic he wrote an entire book about - God being close to us - closer than we think.

Sometimes, we’re so mired in our day-to-day battles, slaying the dragons of busyness and the twin villians worry and fear, that we can’t see that God is right at our side amidst it all. We are reminded time and time again in Scripture, not to worry, not to fear, not to fret about the bills that aren’t paid, the prayers that aren’t prayed or the time we can’t seem to find to connect with anyone, let along our Creator.

And yet, God is close. He is like Waldo (this is Ortberg’s idea, not mine). He is there, the Bible tells us so, on every page, but He is easier to find on some pages than others. Isn’t life just like that? Some days, we feel His presence like a hug enveloping us or we revel in His beauty surrounding us. Other days, like the morning you can’t find matching socks, you bang your shin, you get a parking ticket and you spill your coffee, He might not seem as close. In fact, some days if you’re dealing with severe pain or loss, financial struggles or even sassy children, He might even seem to have skidaddled right along with your sanity.

It’s funny how our emotions betray us – tricking us into believing something that just isn’t true. God is ever-present, in fact He’s often reaching out to us, whether we realize it or not. Ortberg writes about Michelangelo’s “The Creation of Adam,” saying that most paintings of that time showed God standing on the ground, helping man to his feet (an definite need at times), however this was different. God is extending toward man, twisting to move as close as possible. “This God is rushing toward Adam on a cloud, one of the ‘chariots of heaven,’ propelled by the angels. It is as if even in the midst of the splendor of all creation, God’s entire being is wrapped up in his impatient desire to close the gap between himself and this man. He can’t wait.” All we have to do is lift a finger (like Adam) and seize the opportunity to see God in our present and our presence.

The question then is: If God is always with us, why is he sometimes so hard to find? Most times, I venture the problem is mainly with us – we allow our lives and our problems and our interests to crowd out God and his voice. We fail to “practice the presence of God” (to pilfer another title) in our daily lives, no matter how mundane. We have the opportunity to find God, like Brother Lawrence, while washing dishes, changing dirty diapers, stopped at a redllight, banging nails or typing on a computer just as much as while we are in church, reading Christian books, relishing a sunset or taking part in a Bible study.

I may not have the discipline to practice His presence every moment or even every day, but I can see how He is here with my sore muscles, with my angry outbursts over spilled water, with prayers before meals for the “great food and all our cousins,” with me when I sneak chocolate chip cookie dough and when I knit.

God is in those simple everyday things, if I choose to see Him and practice living with Him.

To be sure, it’s difficult to do this when you’ve got a two-year-old singing Jingle Bells at the top of his lungs. But, when he changes songs, and notes and keys and starts singing, “Heavenly God and He smells like a monkey...” (I won’t repeat the rest of his little made-up ditty) it’s hard not to picture God smiling right along and it becomes easier to realize that yes, he is here with me and my impish little performer.

And He was all along.

On those days, I believe Ortberg is right when he writes that this moment is the place where you meet God. I may not have expected the meeting to go quite like this, but still I’m grateful for the little glimpse. He is closer than I think.