I sometimes wonder if the way I talk about God sounds cliche.
Do I post a status, tweet a truth or say goodbye to a friend with a quick dose of wisdom, thinking “yes, that’s what I believe” ?
Or, recall scripture and toss it into conversation at just the right time?
Do I feel a sense of accomplishment because the wisdom of words stored up, came to me at just the right time?
If I’m honest, that’s boastful, showy even.
Do I place myself on the pedestal of reciting scripture when friends are engrossed and content in simple, attentive conversation?
Can I be too casual with the truths I’ve stored up?
Do I share sacred truths that have saved my soul (and my life) in a commonplace tone or one that assumes everyone knows His mercy?
I think I do.
And then, a moment of His Presence occurs and makes real all of the “going through the motions, walking the walk” routine.
A friend calls. A call about my work.
The conversation meanders towards family, life, of course our children.
We catch up. We commit to pray for each other, our unique angst over stages of childhood to adulthood worries, different daughters and sons but the same sense of needing to secure their days, their nights, their futures.
So, she says she will pray and I thank her.
A day later she calls and we compare notes on motherhood, prayers prayed, progress, peace, movement towards resolutions.
For us both, a sense of God’s weaving of good, in us and through us
She said, “God is working.” I paused.
And I felt it.
I felt God working. I froze, lifted my face upward and allowed the washing over feeling of mercy, of Grace to linger.
To describe this moment further would lessen its truth. To elaborate, searching for descriptors of this sense of God-nearness would tarnish its beauty.
God hears our prayers. Mine, yours. He hears.
God is working on our behalf.