on presence

In the countercultural way of the Kingdom, it is only in our present moments that transformation occurs, because it is in this present moment (and only this moment) that we can be with God.

He stood in front of the blackboard and drew a squeaky circle with the chalk, the little white pencil scratching against the surface. This is God, he said. 
Then, he drew a straight line underneath the circle that touched the circumference at one singular point. This is us, he said. 
Then, he made a dot where the circle and line touched. This is this moment, he said. We exist in time–the line. God does not–the circle. So, we can only interact with God in this single moment where we are. We can't interact with God yesterday, or five minutes ago, or an hour from now. All we have for connection is this exact moment. 
That conversation with my professor was almost five years ago now, and still, the words bounce around in my brain, sometimes resting long enough for me to almost grasp the truth of them. We live in a society and a culture that so values anticipation, that worships under the pedestal of vision-casting and goal-setting and forward-progress, that it is easy to be swept away in the current that is lunging someplace new, headlong and quickly. 
But, in the countercultural way of the Kingdom, it is only in our present moments that transformation occurs, because it is in this present moment (and only this moment) that we can be with God. Even as I write this, my head is spinning with ideas for the holiday season and my plans to have coffee with a friend two hours from now and the to-do list that is constantly evolving. And yet, in the delicate middle, in the moments that we rush through to get to the next one, we so often skip past God for the sake of productivity and progress. 
What would it take for us to slow down and remember that the moment ( this moment!) we are in is the only time we have to interact with the Holy? That our Maker is here, now, with us, asking us to walk with him into the rest of our day, our life? 
We have only now to hear from the voice of the one who is calling our name. And, when we hear it, we have only now to respond, to obey, to be still, to be seen, to quiet our fearful hearts, to notice the parts of us that are waking up and let them have room to move. 
God is in the business of ordinary love, the Spirit hovering over the dark waters of our own soul as the Spirit did in the beginning. Not racing through us but simply hovering, interested in this sacred with-ness , this immanuel that can only be experienced exactly where we are. 
Eventually, one moment at a time, a path is made through the middle of the sea of our soul, and we are invited to step in. Even in our anticipation of all that the next season holds, may we take the time to pause and notice as the first molecules of that sea within us begin to move. May we notice the first flutterings of our heart as the Spirit breathes life into our weary bones, as our timeline touches eternity.