We clasp hands, and hearts, to pray for our days. And I whisper the names of loved ones I’m holding dear– friends who are grieving, friends newly married, friends who are celebrating, friends who are far away.
I ask for peace to invade our souls, joy to fill our spirits.
He asks God, “May we see you reflected in the faces of those we encounter today.”
It sticks with me all day, and I do see God.
I see God in the middle school girls wearing matching outrageous hats that I pass on the way to the train station. I see God in the father and his skipping daughter, moving down the sidewalk, their old, faithful dog ambling behind. I see God in the tiniest kindergartener at recess, the mumbling homeless guy who always spends his day smoking on that particular red bench, the young woman who hands me coffee across the counter.
“Stay warm today,” she says.
“I’ll try.” I smile back.
And it’s everywhere — in the wisps of clouds that trail across the blue California sky, the shaking branches of the street-lining Maple trees, the spider gently swept off the doorstep, the shining faces of strangers moving about their downtown lives.
The reflection of God is everywhere. And my eyes aren’t even enough to take it in, so I open my heart, too.
Even then — wide open — it overflows.