Hebrews 11:1

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

John 20:29

Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

Blessed are those who have not seen,

but still believe.

But what about me, Lord?

What am I?

Because I see You.

I see You every day.

I see You in the morning,

in the sunrise,

in the pale pink sky

stretched across the horizon,

dry-brushed by your Divine Hand.

I see you in the moon,

in the sliver of the moon,

slipping behind the silhouette

of the palm tree as it disappears

briefly into the fleeing night.

I see You in the Great Blue Heron,

steady now as it stands high in the trees,

locked in, breath low, as it slowly wakes

to the peekaboo sun.

I see You, Lord, in the woman,

waiting at the bus stop,

shoulders stooped, weighed down,

carrying far too many bags,

carrying far too much.

I see You in the man walking

down the street, long coat flapping

like a cape in the wind, long coat,

heavy coat, gray with wear and also

too much in the summer sun.

I saw You yesterday, Lord, in the children,

barefoot, mosquito bit, skinned knees

and never happier because it was summer

and they were climbing a tree.

I see You, everywhere, waiting, Lord,

simply waiting to be seen.

You’re not hiding.

You have never hid.

We are the ones who hide, Lord,

the ones who shut our eyes

and pretend to sleep and hope

to be left alone because the price

of seeing, the price of knowing You, Lord,

is that we then, must believe.*

Amen.

*”Would you want to see, if seeing meant that you would have to believe …” Joan Osborne, lyrics, “What if God was One of Us?”