where is god?
i’m opening the clasp between four fingers, just at the tips. it is delicate work putting on a necklace. silver on the very edge of nail and then it’s behind my back and in my mind’s eye where this smallest loop is waiting.
it comes to me that god is like this.
these arguments that god is too busy to care about the small, the insignificant – they’ve never held sway. “don’t bother god. he’s god. your prayers about your petty life are wasting his time.”
i feel the light chain on my fingers. i find the loop i cannot see.
i know god cares about the details of a life.
because if we can, why can’t god?
the argument of god being too big to care about the small makes god so very small. i imagine that it’s god’s close, intimate way that makes us say such things. how can someone so big want to get so close?
so close, that is, to me.
instead we say, “stay far away, god. stay remote on a cloud or deep in space or buried in the furthest regions of my mind. you stay there.” and then i will claim that god is too big to fit into my bedroom, into my car, into my life.
the god i know is big, yes. it’s unfathomable really. it’s nice to wonder about that sometimes. that in this big silent world there is an unseen power who could pull it all off. i like to revel in that, i do.
but the god i know is also laid bare and close. god is vulnerable beyond what most of us can stomach.
i feel him now, standing close behind. he is taking the silver clasp from my fingers. i’m bringing my hands down to my sides now and letting the necklace fall into place.
i’m not alone in these smallest of endeavors.