So who are you, Abba Father? I mean, where are you today? Where will you show up today? How will I know you? How will I see you? Hear you?
Sometimes I think you are hiding because you don’t like me so much anymore. Sometimes it’s because I’ve done something you don’t like. Sometimes I think you aren’t hiding at all. Sometimes I think I’m not paying enough attention.
O Father. I ache sometimes to be near you. To be with you. For your presence to overwhelm me. Inundate me like a fifty-foot wave glistening with many suns. Many images of the sun. A wave that will annihilate me and submerse me completely in your holy presence.
If I have absence of mind. If I have presence of heart.
If I physically ache in my mouth and my head and my shoulders and my back and my chest and my belly and my buttocks and my hips and my thighs and my knees and my calves and my ankles and my heels and my toes. For you. Only for you.
If I have not allowed the quotidian to distract me. If I have not allowed sinfulness and tasks and being good and being right and being better to distract me.
O God. Save me from being good. Save me from having to be good. Save me from proving that I am good. Showing that I am good.
O God, be present as this day so that I may walk into you.