“Hurry!” Dad urged little Jimmy. “The smoke’s getting thicker!”
Just moments before, they had arrived at the state park to hike, but now they had to flee a sudden brushfire and run back to the nearby parking lot. The smoke caught them at the top of the bluff above the lot, but they saw their car below. Ordinarily, they would take the path around the ridge, but there was no time. Dad scrambled down, intending for Jimmy to leap to him.
“Jump, I’ll catch you!” Dad called as he lifted his arms and saw the smoke thickening around his terror-stricken son, who stood stiffly.
“Daddy!” he screamed. “I can’t see you.”
“You don’t need to,” his father called. “I can see you, and that’s all that matters. Jump!”
Just as the churning smoke nearly obliterated his small figure, Jimmy hurled himself down the slope and into his father’s arms. They found their car and drove away.
Where can I go from your spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? In this passage, the writer ponders God’s omnipresence—the attribute that allows the Lord to always be with us. As the psalmist says, we can’t escape God’s presence. And we shouldn’t want to, especially when surrounded by the occasional swirls of confusion while on our spiritual journeys. But even if we can’t see God, He can see us.
With omnipresence comes another divine characteristic: omnipotence. This enables God to preserve and provide for us. We can know God’s omnipresence spots us, and His omnipotence keeps us. That’s all that matters.
What assures you of God’s presence and power?
(Photo courtesy of pixabay.)
(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)
Anne Adams is a retired church staffer living in Athens, Texas, where she writes a historical column for the local newspaper. Her book Brittany, Child of Joy, tells about her mentally disabled daughter and was published in 1986 by Broadman. She has taught junior college history and has published in Christian and secular publications for forty years.