Single-handed Theology – Presence

Arden is lying on the couch beside me, kicking the laptop with her ever stronger feet. She’s getting tired, and it’s time for her morning nap, but she doesn’t want to be in the crib by herself. So she’s hanging out next to me, chewing her teething ring, her rattle bear, her toes. Every so often she looks over to make sure I’m still there, flashes a smile, then goes back to the conversation with her feet. She’s fed and changed. She doesn’t need me for anything in particular. She just needs to know I’m there. She needs my presence.

Presence assures her she is not alone. Presence is my gift of being, the ground of our relationship. Presence is like sonar. When she reaches out to touch me, she knows she is there.

And so amid the tasks of the day, I turn and look for God’s face. I don’t need Him to perform a task or answer a prayer. But I push into Being, and feel myself spring back. With one hand stirring the pot, playing a game, hanging the laundry, reading a book, I stretch out my fingers to Presence. In that Presence I find Father, Comforter, Friend, the assurance of my being and the assurance of my being loved. I smile.



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