Where Is God?

 

personal assistant: A personal assistant is someone who handles the day-to-day errands and activities of another person.

 

Typically, it occurs while I am lying in bed—when I first crawl in, and I’m trying to shut down and go to sleep; during the middle of the night when my eyes pop open, and my mind runs full-speed ahead; when I wake up in the early morning.

I am reluctant to call it worry, though the “worrywart” description given by my mother when I was a child would probably still be appropriate. There are spiritual versions—“lack of trust, having no faith, trying to be in control.” Those are applicable as well.

It really matters not what words are used. Those are the times I spend trying to figure out what is going to happen. What am I going to do tomorrow? How am I going to do it, and when? The degrees of concern vary, depending on the schedule in my very busy social life. (Sarcasm applied here.) However, I have been known to fret over things as insignificant as the eyelash on a fly.

One of “those” times was coming up. I had offered to drive a friend to a medical appointment. I’d not been to the office building before. I didn’t know the parking arrangements. I had no idea where the office was in the 6-story building located in a busy part of town. Those three unknowns were enough to set me and my imagination in motion. I always say that firsts in anything are the hardest. This was a first.

It occurred to me, in a very matter-of-fact way, that God knows and oversees my tomorrow. I don’t have to figure anything out. Sleep and rest were my friend.

There is a paradox in this. While I am the one having the experience, I can also watch and see what happens. I was going to watch and see.

My friend is quite particular about being late to anything, so we left with plenty of time to spare on appointment day. “Just in case we run into traffic problems or an accident.” We had done a trial run the day before, so the question of where we were going was taken care of.

Pulling up to the building, I moved into the correct lane that led into the parking garage. The entrance was on the ground floor level. As we crawled in, it was apparent the lot was full. Wait!! There was an opening in the second row, just a few cars over. We later discovered parking was available on every level, including the very top. We had been spared the process of circling up and circling back down, searching for a parking spot.

The next step was to find our way into the building from the parking lot. At the same time, we needed to orient ourselves so we could find the parked vehicle when we came back out. Sometimes confusion takes over in a dark parking garage, with no point of external reference. Note to self: B1. That was the level and area we parked in.

Finding the entrance turned out to be easy peezy. But where was the office located in this menagerie? Just then two nurses got off the elevator. “Could you please tell us where ****** ******* is located?”

“The third floor. Get off the elevator and you’ll see it on your right. You can’t miss it.”

Another nurse joined us as we got in the elevator, heading for the third floor. She assured us the office was easy to find and getting back to the parking lot wasn’t going to be a problem.

I have had first-time experiences where I was like an airplane, circling the elusive airport, trying to land. This was not one of those.

The elevator nurse was right. Finding the office and finding our way back to the truck was a piece of cake. I was smiling as I spotted B1 on the pillar post and my familiar blue pickup.

People of means often hire personal assistants. They are the ones who take care of the details of daily life, enabling their employer to come and go freely and smoothly. They go ahead, leading the way, making certain there are no surprises, roadblocks, or messes.

I have my own personal assistant—God. He is teaching me and reinforcing the fact I don’t have to try to figure anything out. He really does have my tomorrow—and my today—taken care of. 

"What a bunch of rubbish!" you might say. "This is petty, insignificant, and of no consequence. How does this compare to the tragedies taking place in the world right now?"

Yes, this was a "little thing." But it was a stress-free experience, one of convenience. If God cares enough to micro-manage the details of my life, I can trust Him to take care of me in the tornadoes that might await me around the corner. He is the ultimate choreographer.

 Blessed be the name of the Lord. And blessed are those who allow Him to be in charge.

 

Where is God?

If our eyes are never opened to see God in the “little things,”

we will never see Him in the “big things.”