
MISSING THE PRESENCE
A man wanted to become a monk so he went to the monastery and talked to the head monk. The head monk said, "You must take a vow of silence and can only say two words every three years." The man agreed and after the first three years, the head monk came to him and said, "What are your two words?" "Food cold!" the man replied. Three more years went by and the head monk came to him and said "What are your two words?" "Robe dirty!" the man exclaimed. Three more years went by and the head monk came to him and said, "What are your two words?" "I quit!" said the man. "Well," the head monk replied, "I’m not surprised. You’ve done nothing but complain ever since you got here!"
My wife, Heather, could win any competition to find The World’s Quietest Person. Yet, when she went away recently, the house seemed silent. Paradoxical, really, as Heather contributes little to the levels of volume in our household. It was her presence that was missing. I wonder if it can sometimes be like that in our lives? Can we just carry on as usual (as I did, with my daily life, when Heather was away), but, occasionally, know that we have, somehow, missed God’s presence, despite everything else being just the same?
There are probably several reasons for that happening (and I guess it happens to us all): busy-ness, fatigue, distractions, responsibilities, cares and concerns, etc - the sheer hurly-burly of normal life. We can rely upon the fact that God is actually present. ‘Never will I leave you…’ (Hebrews 13:5). That ‘never’ is a strong word! Therefore, if we miss his presence, it behoves us to consider afresh, Psalm 42.
God knows about our busy lives, and understands. We have the indelible reassurance of James 4:8: ‘Come near to God and he will come near to you’ - not to blame us, or rebuke us, but to embrace us. When we take one step towards God, experience shows us that he takes ten towards us. The secret is to take that step. We need to acknowledge that our awareness of the promised presence is missing. Without that acknowledgement, we are in danger of simply going through the motions. The psalmist recognised his spiritual thirst (Psalm 42:1), and turned that thirst into a prayer. This week, if that presence seems to be lacking, it might be helpful to step back for a moment, and to sense him - and his love - close, once more.
Major Stephen Poxon