God's bird-eye view

If you are like me, you have probably heard since you were a child that God is everywhere all the time, including in your heart and the heart of every other person who has accepted Him. We know from scripture that God sees all, knows all, loves all, created all, and that His ways are higher than our ways. He is before, behind, inside and outside, the beginning and the end, and in Him all things hold together. It is so encouraging and comforting to believe that truth and to trust that truth, but the truth is that there are times my infinitesimal brain just cannot truly conceive of the magnitude of that of that truth. Everywhere, all the time? All knowing, all powerful, all loving, all the time??

Whoa.

When I packed my bags for She Speaks two weeks ago and drove my car to the airport, my brain was all over God and what He was doing. I was swimming, basking, dare I say, bathing in a nearly constant state of prayer about the weekend. What is He going to do with me this weekend? What is His plan for me? What might He reveal to me? How amazingly may He show Himself to me? Me, me, ME.

God likes a girl in constant prayer. God prefers a girl who reflects more on Him than on herself. I'm just saying.

Anyway, it was in this near-constant state of prayer that I was gazing out the airplane window on our approach to Cincinnati (what else did I have to do when my neighbor in the next seat had buried her face in a book from the moment she sat down and never took it out) when an amazing thing happened. I looked at a house and thought God knows who is crying in there. I looked at a car and thought, God knows who is singing their heart out to the radio in there. I saw a delivery truck and thought God knows who is worrying about money in there. At another house, God knows who is fighting. At a building, God knows who is texting. At another house, God knows who is embracing, at another, God knows who overslept, at another, God knows...at another, God knows...at another, God knows.

God KNOWS.

As I sat there stunned, in that window sear over Cincinnati, I have never had a clearer understanding of the omnipotence and omnipresence of God, and all I could do was freeze with my mouth gaping, my prayers silenced, and tears in my eyes, basking in the truth that He knows. He knows. He sees it all. I, in my minuscule corner of the world, can see only what is in front of me. Even from a plane I can only see what my human and puny vision can take in. But God, well, He sees it all. Nothing escapes His watchful eye, nothing escapes His unfathominable mind, and nothing escapes His bottomless well of love. He knows.

A truth I've known since childhood was made more real to me that day than it has ever been before. I love it when God takes a moment of human self-absorption and sweeps in with a heaping dose of divine revelation, don't you? If for no other reason, my trip was worth it. And to Him be all the glory.