“‘Am I only a God nearby,’ declares the Lord,
‘and not a God far away?
Can anyone hide in secret places
so that I cannot see him?’ declares the Lord.
‘Do I not fill heaven and earth?’ declares the Lord” (Jeremiah 23:23, 24 NIV).
“Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast” (Psalm 139:7-10 NIV).
In my sky-blue Malibu,
I was driving alone across a wide expanse of white-bright flat, flat prairie on a narrow road untracked since the night’s soft snowfall.
My car tires crunched snow into the gravel,
sketching parallel lines in the rear-view mirror,
lines that stretched back into the morning’s mistiness.
The sun-bright haze ahead suddenly became encompassing fog,
rolling gossamer wisps of white horizon over the windshield.
All around I could see no sign of habitation – not a building, not a tree, not even a post.
I was in an immense and glowing igloo that moved with me as I rode.
On and on. Alone. Alone, yet not alone for the Lord God was there.
My soul merged with the Spirit of the Lord filling that great ethereal space.
There, communion was spontaneous,
friend with friend; friend with friend.
The praise of the Psalmist became my voice:
“If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast” (Psalm 139:9,10).
As we experience God’s Word, we can all say with the Apostle Paul,
“God is not far from each one of us. For in him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:27b, 28).
Prayer: “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth” (Psalm 1). Please cause us glory in your presence and live communing with your Spirit of majesty.