Thursday 1 June 2023

It is evening, the light fading, and I am walking Luke after dinner. I am washed by a feeling of safety and protection. It’s hard to describe, but I feel my feet being lifted up gently with each step. Some quiet prayers begin to come out of my mouth: “I give you all my praise, for how overwhelming in majesty and glory …”, and my Lord says:

            I know every step you take, child, and I know all your steps to come.

If I was overwhelmed before, I was flooded with a sense of eternity. “How is this, Lord? How is it that you know the steps of every one of us?”

It feels, of course, inconceivable, that You know every person, creature, plant, breath of air, or wave on the ocean.

I stand still in the night air, considering a small patch of fine-grained sand on the side of the road. “You know exactly how many grains of sand there are here, don’t you? You know how many molecules there are in me at any instant. I praise your awesomeness.”

We are large and complex compared to other living beings, yet we are very, very small on an earth-scale. As soon as I thought that, and looked up, he replied:

            And consider My heavens, child, every twinkling light.

I see the stars appearing, think of God’s covenant with Abraham, that He would make his offspring more numerous than the stars. Literally: countless.

“Yes, Father, we are in awe, in holy fear for this life, this awareness of you and your immensity and intimacy at the same instant. I …”

            Love You.