Within Reach

“Are you there, God? It’s me.” Valerie Milner asked, then added. “Again.”

This was not the first time Valerie had sought God’s presence, and she figured it would not be the last. She had wanted the warmth that she had experienced at eight years old, sitting at church next to her mother during a particularly riveting rendition of Amazing Grace. She had found impossible to keep her seat, running down the aisle as church members praised Jesus for filling her with the spirit. She didn’t know what it was or why tears streamed down her face. But as she ran out of steam and her mother escorted her back to her seat, Valerie knew that she would never forget this moment.

Now, at 25, She often thought about that experience, wondering why she had not felt that way since. Her subsequent Christian conversion and baptism at age 12 had been anti-climactic, lacking the warmth that she longed to feel again.

“You can’t rush God,” her mother had said once when she had shared her concern.

Are you there, God? It’s me. became a mantra for her. She repeated it during every Sunday service, Bible study and Sunday School meeting, and fervent prayer. All the while she listened for an answer. In the meantime, she continued to mature as a young woman, growing in her faith, honoring her mother and father, and finding her work as an assistant at a local college satisfying. She loved that students often sought her guidance in navigating the unfamiliar and somewhat intimidating world of young adult life.

But she longed for the feeling of warmth that continued to elude her. Where was it? Was it real? She was starting to have her doubts. Maybe God didn’t work like that. Maybe such a miracle only happened once in a lifetime. She surely hoped not.

So, here she sat yet again asking the question, making her presence known. And again, she felt nothing. Shifting in her seat next to her mother, Valerie decided to focus on the young man who had walked up to the podium.

“The devotional scripture comes from Jeremiah 29:13 NIV,” he said, continuing, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”

“Amen,” she said with the congregation.

Valerie felt her thoughts wondering yet again. She began thinking about the many theories she had devised to explain her childhood experience. Her latest and one of her favorites was the thought that she had had a bout of premature hot flash. She had recently witness her mother’s battle with this condition, often breaking out in sweat. Several manual and battery-operated fans were strategically placed in their house, her mother’s car and in their purses. Valerie carried one just in case her mother’s fan failed.

“Focus, girl,” Valerie mumbled, irritated with herself for being so easily distracted.

The praise choir had just finished singing, but Valerie could not recall the song that had several members up on their feet, hands raised in praise. Even her mother had joined them, shouting hallelujah. Valerie chastised herself for missing another opportunity to feel the spirit through the song. She had to do better.

As she watched the pastor ascend the few steps toward the podium, Valerie noticed that her vision was slightly blurry. She blinked a few times to clear it, but the blurriness only worsened. The volume of the pastor’s voice usually boomed around them as he shouted glory to God, repeating excerpts from the song and imploring that the congregation take its message to heart. But Valerie could barely hear him or the congregation’s excited response.

She looked around confused, stunned that no one seemed affected by what she was experiencing. Any other time, she would have retrieved eye drops to try and clear her vision, but she found it impossible to move. Nothing was hindering her, which she proved to herself by rubbing her hands up and down her legs. But she felt compelled to remain seated.

“Are you alright?” her mother asked, glancing at her and noticing her strange expression.

Valerie did not answer, for the soft warmth that enveloped her was all she could focus on. It was not intense like that she had experienced in her youth, but it was still familiar. Too familiar. She had been so focused on the strength of the first encounter that she had overlooked the soft warmth she was feeling now. That she had always felt. She had felt it when she asked for guidance in making both minor and major decisions. Whether she was seeking that guidance from her mother, father, pastor, or mentor. She had felt it when she sought comfort for herself or others. The soft warmth had been there.

“You are here, God!” she shouted excitedly.

The warmth moved subtly around her, feeling almost like a caress. She closed her blurry eyes and accepted the contact. Peace settled troubling thoughts, those of rising doubts and, if she were honest, a hint of disbelief.

“How do I know that I am on the right path?” she asked.

No response.

“How do I know when you are speaking to me?” she asked.

No response.

“Are you really a trinity?” she asked. “I get confused sometimes about whom I should be serving.”

No response.

“God, are you still there?” she asked, frustrated.

Wait, she realized she was doing it again, ignoring the movement of the warmth around her. She had been waiting to hear a verbal response to her questions. After each of her questions, she had felt varied degrees of pressure against her. But how should she translate their meaning?

This time the warmth released her, creating a bubble around her. Though she could not see it, she could still feel its presence. Closing her eyes, Valerie put away all of her questions, settled herself, and embraced her own presence.

“It’s me.”

She let the words echo in her mind, feeling the magnitude of each word’s purpose. It. Is. Me.

All that you are is all that you will be.

The words were spoken and not spoken, visible and invisible, there and not there, somewhere in between. The effect was dizzying, and Valerie almost opened her eyes against the rising vertigo.

The sound of the pastor’s fiery voice jolted her from the trance. She opened her eyes to see the blurriness gone and the pastor jumping up and down to emphasize the importance of his message. The crescendo of the congregation’s response was almost deafening, but Valerie resisted covering her ears. She didn’t want to alarm her mother.

“All that I am is all that I will be,” she whispered to herself, smiling.

This time she did not dismiss the soft warmth that now was clearly present around her. The words gave her hope and purpose. It will take time for her to unpacked God’s message, but she knew she was not alone. She may not have felt compelled to run down the aisle, but she could feel her spirit running in praise.

THE END