Susan and I spent yesterday with ten members of her team, at a day of training.
On a break I checked emails on my Blackberry. There was one from my friend, Dave, sharing his thoughts about a bus ride to work.
I couldn't help myself; I boldly blurted out in a return email,"I love this. Can I post it on my blog?"
"Um...yes," he wrote back, asking only that I let him know when I would use it.
Susan usually posts on Fridays, so I thought that I would save it for Monday.
At the end of our long day, Susan was at our house for cell group. We had dinner, and then, just as we finished clearing away the dishes, she turned to me and said, "I'm so exhausted, I'm going home. I don't think I could focus on the study tonight." She had been up since 4.00 a.m. with back pain.
"How would you like not to write a blog post tonight?" I asked.
And she said something she never says:"I would love that."
"God has it covered," I said.
I think that God delights to give us such love gifts.
By Dave Hingsburger
These moments don't happen often and, as such, I'm always a little
surprised by them.
Yesterday I was on the bus going to work. It was a sunny day and we were driving by trees. My mind wasn't on the day to come or the last day done, I was simply in the present and completely quiet.
Suddenly, I knew in the way you know this thing, God was with me. Present with me. Around me and beside me.
In days long past, as a youth, these moments were destroyed by my need to get all holy and 'Thee and Thou' with God. To talk like a little kid full of a day's story. To fill the silence that brought God's presence with sound and words and things.
It was like I saw God as a heavenly social worker with an enormous daily planner and one huge case list, dropping by to tick off the fact that his visit was done.
So I'd speak in words I never use about things that never mattered. And God, with a sigh I almost heard would soon be gone.
Now, it's different. I do not need to fill these moments. I realize that the moment is here not because God is open to me but because I am open to him. I realize that I say more in just sitting quiet with him. Enjoying the intimacy of time spent together without words. Like two old friends enjoying a ride on the bus together.
It is in these moments I realize how much my God loves me, yes. But, more importantly, I realize how much I love God.
I love the presence and the reassurance.
I love the connection and the direction.
I love knowing that God will ride a bus with me even if I don't always walk with him.
(Dave writes on disability issues at Rolling Around in My Head.)