For the past week or so, I’ve felt God close by. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve just noticed his presence. There is nothing substantially different about my life. I can’t point to certain good things happening and say, “A miracle, a blessing.” But there has been a peace. There has been a closeness. One that I didn’t particularly ask for. One that I don’t particularly know how to handle.
It feels so foolish, practically blasphemous, to stay that I’m uncomfortable with such attention. But it is uncomfortable. I wasn’t seeking God (at my own detriment), and he has shown up anyway. And I don’t understand why. Is he trying to tell me something, call me to some action, and I just can’t understand? Or is this normal and I’ve been distant for so long I didn’t realize it? It’s uncomfortable because this situation just points out how little I control. God comes barging into my life because of course he can. Of course he will. And it’s completely foolish of me to act surprised. And it’s awful of me to be anything but grateful.
If there is a particular reason, he’ll let me know. Otherwise, I should just be open. I should embrace these moments of love and support and joy. I should relish in this lingering presence. I should smile and sing. I should let myself be open to such love.
Because it does feel very much like being in love, where every moment is filled with a preoccupied sense of joy and where every song, or story, or phrase seems to overflow with personalized meaning. It’s the kind of love that won’t hurt. But it still burns bright. And that makes me what to shield my eyes and slide into shadows. To admire from afar. Love is vulnerable, and vulnerable is scary. Even when it’s a good love, a safe love, a happy love. Oh, that I should be open to such love.