My husband is a crier in movies; I am not. Occasionally something will tug out a tear or two, but it’s rare. And weeping? Unheard ... Read More
The dictionary definition of omnipresence is “(of God) present everywhere at the same time.”
I’ve been thinking on this for the past month and wonder how many of us really live from this very orthodox truth on a daily basis.
Suppose I did begin to recognize this Fact. How would it change my relationships? If I was frustrated or hurt by someone, and yet chose to recognize that God is present all around me, in me, and that He “works all things after the counsel of His own will” in my situation, how would that change my course of action?
In my creative life as a musician, singer, songwriter, how would it change my creativity and output to know that the true Muse is always present with me, brooding over the waters, ready for the moment of creation?
How would it change my worship of God to know that I am literally living and having my being in Him? Would every moment become a different facet of worship? Would washing dishes or writing a song or spending time with my children become a form of worshiping God? When I walked into the church for worship with others, would it change the atmosphere if we all knew as Fact that God was already present, that we didn’t have to coax Him to “come down,” that we didn’t have to “invite Him” or sing songs asking God to come to us? Can it be possible that the manifestation of that Presence is merely awaiting our recognition, our trust, our faith-response to the Fact of omnipresence that is stated in the Word of God?
How would it change our sense of security, of being protected, of having a mission and a purpose in life to know that God is always present and working His eternal purposes – working all things together for good to them that love Him, working everything for good to those who have been called according to His purpose and plan? What if we ate, slept, and breathed this truth for awhile? Would it become part of our consciousness, a subconscious undercurrent of faith?
Winner of 147 Grammys (or so), Ron Block is the banjo-ninja portion of Alison Kraus and Union Station. When he's not laying down a bluegrass-style martial-arts whoopin' on audiences around the world, he's taking care of his donkey named "Trash" and keeping himself busy by being one of the most well-read and thoughtful people we know.