Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. (Psalms 51:11) (NIV)
I walked in the life-throbbing forest mouthing prayers of thankfulness, and the press about me increased.
Over tuna sandwiches, a friend effervesced about the joy of Jesus’s touch, and the heavenly ether thickened.
A timid inchworm worked his way across my table. I wondered at the diversity of creation, and the spiritual barometer rose.
Dozens of experiences each day add to the quickening pressure of God’s presence. I feel it, revel in it, and hunger for it. The evidence is never direct, and yet, it remains my everything.
It is the pressure of the presence that lifts my head above the clouds. Troubles clamor and clutch, but they do it down below in the thunderheads. Up here, joy, peace, and love hold hands around me. It would be madness to break out of their fun and sink into worldly chaos.
How do unbelievers face life without the Spirit of God? They must be another species—a life form that exists where I cannot imagine. Were his presence to leave me, I would revert to animal life. I could eat, talk, and breathe, yet I’d only be an organism, like a flea or a paramecium.
God, if ever you have to leave me, please erase my existence first so I’ll not have to experience the loss of you. Surround me with the worst of nightmares. Send me to face demons if you must, but I beg you, don’t take your Spirit from me.
Prayer: I praise you again, Holy Spirit, for the pressure of your presence.