My silent prayer time had come to an end. The Lord had left me with one question as I opened my eyes and shifted my body.
“What really touches you?”
In other words, what do I see or experience that reaches the core of my soul? Not just something that makes me smile, like the sight of a little kitten. But sights and sounds that resonate deeply. The things that stir the God-place in me and make me feel a unity with the world and it’s maker. Sometimes it’s a fleeting feeling, like quick puff of wind. Other times it’s a longer and more peaceful, like ceaseless waves that curl and roll over me.
I know it when I feel it. But naming what causes this feeling of union wasn’t easy. But I finally could list a few things. Reverence. A slow, thoughtful sign of the cross. The head in hands in the pew after everyone else is gone. The person reading a faith-based book on a park bench. A mother teaching her child to pray. A woman guiding her elderly mother down the aisle to find that brand of makeup she always uses.
Witnessing these things is like finding hidden gifts of love tucked into the hour shaped folds of my day. They bring tears to my eyes. I feel so inspired by the faith and kindness of these moments. Because honestly, life can look a lot different.
Outside the walls of church on Sunday, lies a world that moves like a streaking arrow from the morning alarm buzz to the nightly news. Being busy is not a bad thing. Busy people are often the most effective. But what troubles me is the often self absorbed attitude in all that activity. The lane changing to move up one more car length. The rush to the newly opened cash register. Even the dash home from church can lead to some “me first” moves in the parking lot. These attitudes are not going to touch my soul and make me soar.
That person on the park bench reading is showing me that there are many, many people who want to do better. Who want to try harder. The man in the pew is showing me that there are many, many people who realize they are at the end of what they can do. It’s time to hand it all over to God. And that’s hard. But he’s ready for the struggle.
Everyday things. But I don’t seem to see them very often. Probably because I’m distracted by the ordered and not-so-ordered chaos around me. Maybe that’s why the experiences so precious. These simple acts of kindness and faith touch me in a way that’s hard to describe. It’s like my heart fuses to my soul in that one solitary moment. I see heaven on earth. I see ‘thy will be done.’
What touches you?
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