Really, here, in this place?
Can this day really be saturated, soaked, drenched, doused in the holy?
Can God really we woven into this minute...
This breath...
This second.
When the toast is burnt and my head hurts.
When I am interrupted right as I was about to have my most brilliant thought ever.
When I have all these things to do on my to-do list.
Here?
Now?
Doesn't God show up on Sundays along with the pastor (on the only day s/he works)?
Doesn't God wait around all week for us to sing and pray?
Isn't God just itching to hear that prayer of confession?
Because if God here...
That makes me squirm, shift uncomfortably...
Well, because of God is here...
That could change everything.
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