I lament the lack of stars in the sky. But the stars are still there. I just can't see them.

There's a message in here somewhere...

It's a beautiful day outside, one of those I-can't-believe-this-is-August days, where the whole sky is available to be seen, the clouds augmenting it rather than hiding it. And most of the city is in an office building somewhere, unaware (or perhaps painfully aware) of what's available for them just outside their door. Once we've escaped to our homes, we'll sit in traffic or wait for trains, angry (however justifiably) about the traffic and the inevitably delayed trains, and arrive home for the last moments of daytime in a huff, either hurrying to the next thing or crashing on the couch. Once the sun has set (the walls of buildings around us making that very difficult to see), all of our technology will hide the glory of a nighttime sky. The only stars we'll see are airplanes. So we'll finish our day and fall asleep too late and rush to get out of the house in the morning. In Chicago, there is so much to do and so little time to do it in, it's plausible that we could go a whole lifetime in a routine where we never once encounter a moment with the physical universe that causes us to consider what's at the core of this world.

But... in spite of all that... or perhaps better said, in light of all that... God is still there.

We're very good at hiding the evidence, but He's there.

I wonder if this plays out in our daily lives? We make more time to watch TV than to be with God, who I for one have had what I believe to be actual two-sided conversations with. Is he always there, waiting for me to press the power button and give him a minute? Even if I can't see him. Even if I can't see him because of what I've created. Is he there? All the time?

photo - Don McCrady

Labels: Jesus