God desires to dwell with His people—
and He does.
Not far away.
Not hidden.
In Jesus Christ, God draws near.
God chooses to be with us.
I learned that again this week.
After the storm, I went to check on my investment property.
Ice had taken down limbs everywhere—so many that I needed a chainsaw just to reach the door.
Somewhere in all that cutting and dragging,
my glasses slipped off my head.
Gone.
I looked and looked.
I came back the next day.
And the next.
My wife came twice.
We retraced every step, every cut, every pile of limbs.
Still nothing.
Sunday, after bringing the Blessed Sacrament to the Veterans Home,
we stopped by one last time.
Standing where we had stood so many days before, I finally said,
“We’re just not going to find them.
Tomorrow I’ll get a new pair.”
We turned toward the truck—
and before I could take a step,
there they were.
My glasses.
Right in front of me,
as if a light had been shining on them the whole time.
And I thought:
isn’t that how it is with God?
In the Gospel, when Jesus steps off the boat at Gennesaret,
the people recognize Him immediately.
They run to Him.
They bring the sick.
They reach for even the tassel of His cloak.
And all who touched Him were healed.
They saw Him.
They knew He was near.
But so often, I search everywhere
except the place He actually is.
Yet still—He stands right in front of me,
waiting for the moment my eyes finally open.
God is not distant.
God is here.
And when we turn, even slightly,
He lets Himself be found.
Prayer
Lord, You dwell so near,
closer than the storms that scatter our days.
Open my eyes to the places I overlook You,
the moments where grace stands right in front of me.
When I search in all the wrong places,
shine Your quiet light upon the way.
Heal what is hidden, steady what is shaken,
and draw me close enough to touch the hem of Your mercy.
Let me recognize You, Lord—
and be found by You again.
Amen
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