“But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you.”
‭‭John‬ ‭14‬:‭26‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I stood in the pool, one foot in shallow, the other in the slant towards deep.

An audience of one, my granddaughter putting on a performance, her very own synchronized swimming dances from the edge into the water. Again and again, with happy pirouettes, she demonstrated the newly formed lessons with commitment.

I paused in between each repetition. I noticed her noticing me as I waited with gazing eyes to sense heaven again.

To find the Holy Spirit in my backyard.

And I did. It was a minute or less.

I sought quietly and I found the breath of heaven, the sense of the Holy Spirit in my chest, the warmth of the passing for just a second breeze on my cheek.

Willing myself to a state of “distractionless”.

In the auditorium, I sort of coaxed my mind to be where I was, to not think of things to do, to wonder less about home a couple of hours away and to practice presence, to be receptive.

I repositioned myself. I set my intentions, I reset my mind from racing to attentiveness.

I wept in worship. I raised my hand, opened my heart. Not unnatural, simply unable to resist.

A woman behind me prayed in unison with the one praying. I sat when “Amen” came, my cheeks lined, rivulets.

I wiped my face and reached behind to thank her, tapped her on the leg to say “thank you”. I noticed the touch of my hand, wet and she touched my hand, received it, my gratitude.

I was away for two days, my granddaughter said two weeks. I called to ask about Saturday’s plans and quickly they were decided, I’d be going to pick her up.

We dodged the storms. I taught her to measure the distance of thunder.

We listened. She understood.

She talked on and on and I read with incessant interruptions the book she chose.

Then the storm stopped and she slept like a 14 not 4 year old girl.

I slipped out of bed for coffee and returned to read quietly, turned by mistake to the wrong date of my devotional.

“I have no home, until I am in the presence of God. This holy presence is my inward home, and until I experience it, I am a homeless wanderer, a straying sheep in a waste howling wilderness.” Anonymous 1841 “Joy & Strength”

And moved to cherish, to hold closely the reality of God’s Spirit in me. I am a seeker of solace now, of pausing long for all other things to experience God.

I completed a survey of the experience, the conference “She Speaks” for women.

I added my takeaway, my thoughtful remembrance of weeping in worship (this is not my normal), of joining hands with other women and of feeling a belonging that was without typical female comparison or judgment.

I slept softly with a girl, four years old, who dreamt something only she knows.

Thinking, I pray she continues to be receptive to what’s not earthly…for that’s where the gift is, the seeking that must be practiced.

When she was a baby we stood at the window and she gazed fixated, seeing heaven in a way I’m incapable.

It doesn’t come naturally. We must remember to long for it with intention.

The experience of the nearness of God.

Indescribable, it is.

I believe children know such a closeness.

Closeness we long to know.

Continue to seek, believing God is near.

Continue and believe.