If Jesus is with us continually, why do we not sense Him evenly? Why are there crescendos in our awareness? Why are there rests in which we sense nothing?
When we speak of “sensing God’s presence,” we are crossing multiple dimensions. Our physical senses are earth bound: we see, hear, feel, smell, taste, and touch life. Senses serve the purpose of keeping us present to reality.
However, “sensing God” does not mean that we smell Him or see Him, but that we are aware of His otherness and His nearness simultaneously. And that is beautiful beyond description. That is what, perhaps, inspired Peter to blurt out on the Mount of Transfiguration, “Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters…” (Luke 9:33)
Peter felt goose bumps during the Transfiguration when Jesus—who was always with him—shined with heavenly glory. I appreciate Luke’s description: “Peter and his companions were very sleepy, but when they became fully awake, they saw his glory.” (Luke 9:32)
Surely we too are, in many ways, sleepy to the enormous activity occurring in unseen realms. Perhaps via corporate worship or silent prayer, via painting or nature walks, via study or holding a baby…we, on occasion, become fully awake and our senses quake, mesmerized by what they discern in all their frailty.
I agree with Peter: it is good to be there in that glorified space. I am unspeakably grateful for such moments. In them, something deep within me aches for heaven.
And I am even more grateful that God’s presence is not confined to such moments. As emphasized last week, Jesus is continually with and within His followers.
I cannot overstress how essential it is to spiritual sustainability that we intentionally digest this truth: Whether asleep or fully awake, our senses neither negate nor create God’s presence.
A while back, a friend took me through a gorgeous garden park. Occasionally, we would turn a corner and the wind would shift and I would catch the scent of honeysuckle (which I love). I tried to follow my nose to find the bush but to no avail. Too many factors were out of my control.
Allow me to state the obvious: The bush was neither taunting me nor playing hide-and-seek with me. The bush did not vanish because (or when) my sense of smell faltered. The bush was the constant in that garden. I and my senses were not.
Such is true of God. He neither taunts us nor plays hide-and-seek with us. He does not disappear because (or when) we cease to sense Him. God’s otherness and God’s nearness are glorious constants in our spirits. Our senses are simply sincere but woefully clumsy admirers.
This is a beautiful way of putting it. Praise God for these words. Happy to have come across your article. Thank you. 🙂
Thank you, Alicia! After a long day of ministry yesterday and feeling a bit wrung out today, this was a beautiful reminder that He is present today in the quietness and emotional void just as He was yesterday in the excitement and outpouring of the Holy Spirit. So needed this reminder as doubts and responsibility swept in to rob me of victory! His presence is constant!
Thank you, Alicia for writing, “Sensing God”, such a beautiful reminder that He is with us always whether we are aware of Him or not. I needed to read this entry exactly today. It was in God’s timing for me, so perfect.
With grace and gratitude,
Sandy
Sandy, thank you for taking the time to comment. I too needed this reminder this week. I’m learning as I age that I’m more affected emotionally by overcast skies and dreary weather. It’s almost as though my emotions flatten. How grateful I am that He is constant and that intimacy is not a feeling.
I caught the smell of Jesus a couple of weeks ago at a wedding – the night before our Easter celebration. The bride and groom took communion and then fed the bread and wine to those in attendance. Really, I was undone with the moment – sensing heaven and the Father so very close by. And while I felt humbled (unworthy) to partake in that moment, wild horses couldn’t have dragged me away. It was beautiful. I nearly had to leave the sanctuary for the flood of tears that was pouring through my soul and down my cheeks. Funny how God catches us off guard. I pray for a heart to always look for him, especially when my eyes are dimmed by temporal constraints. Beautiful words, friend.
Thank you, my dear Elaine. What a gorgeous image of the bride and groom serving all in attendance communion. Simply beautiful.
Coming to terms with the reality of God’s constant presence has been a slow process indeed. When I was young I “got” the message that our walk with Him is by faith, not feeling, but that often translated into my attempting to hang onto my faith with grim determination. Joy was a concept rarely experienced and I fell into the trap of believing that only truly “spiritual” people sensed God’s presence.
I’m slowly awakening to a heart level realization that I am His beloved at all times no matter what my emotions or senses are registering. Thank-you for this beautiful post.
Thank you, Wendy. “slowly awakening to a heart level realization that I am His beloved at all times” — such a beautiful description…and journey.