Sitting on the porch swing, the air was warm. Gently, I felt that soft summer breeze caress my weary face. It was one of those moments, where I felt so real. So alive. I looked up at the pitch black sky sprinkled generously with white sparkles. “God,” I whispered, “this is you.”  I felt a shiver run up my spine.
It was one of those few nights where I knew that everything would be all right, that calm reassurance I so often crave poured right over me, spreading over every nerve in my body. For months, I felt this tension- a kind of dull ache that never would go away. After crushing heartbreaks and bitter disappointments, after countless nights lacking in sleep and full of tears, I could finally breathe easy.
I knew the moment was fleeting. All too soon, I would wake up to another morning with the pressures of the world pounding down. I chose to ignore that thought though. At that moment, I was simply there. For the time being, I would cherish what I had.
Sometimes I wonder why I can’t feel that way more often. Why does it have to be a starry summer night for me to feel totally at peace? If I truly believe that God with me all the time, then I should never have anything to worry about… Right?
I think, ultimately, in the core of my heart, I do believe in God’s omnipresence, but all too often I let everything else block out that reassuring calm I know he will always bring. Deep down, I know he will work everything about, but I get too caught up in the moment, stressing out over very temporary things. Why do I let that happen when I have experienced for myself that peace of God, which in fact does surpass all understanding? Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s selfishness. Maybe it’s pride. I don’t really know. But I do know, that whenever I feel anxious or broken, I need to think back to that starry night. I must never forget what it feels like to be alive in the presence of God.