Today I tried to find You. Some people say You are in everything. Is that true?
I looked for You in our basement. I looked for You in that brownie I ate. I tried the sock drawer and neighborhood park. I even searched the dream I had about a guy I used to like. Dream him still didn’t like me—awkward. Were You in the awkward?
I watched my niece and nephew play, scream, and cry today. Were You in it? I figure You’re always in the smiles, the happiness. Were You in the tears? Were You in the mundane?
I figure You’re in most people, but even the bad ones? Are You in killing and hate? Terrorism? Panic? Birthday cards? Fear? Equestrianism?
It’s interesting to me, God—Father, that we look like You. Doesn’t that make You in all of us, all of the time? Or does that make us in You—or at least shouldn’t it? Should we be in everything You are?
I suppose our being created in Your image, was one of the very first signs of what we were supposed to do with our lives. The very first gift You gave us when we were born, to look like who we should/could become. Are You ever insulted or offended by how we use this gift?
Am I? Should I be?
Perhaps I’m offended by how others use this gift, how others ignore the part of You inside them, but I don’t think You really care about my judgements. Do You? Do You care about my judgm—misjudgments? My inability to see others as You do? My inability to care about and nourish the You in all of us?
How shortsighted am I, Father, to overlook You walking through the store isles, holding hands with my dad, nestling in my sister’s lap?
Are You upset by my shortsightedness? Am I? Should I not be?
Please help me be like Nephi and rejoice. Rejoice in finding You.
Are You in the creeks and hills? Does it matter? Are You in my neighbor? How does that not matter?
Are You in me? Can I be in You forever? Please?
My Lord. My God. My Father. Rejoice, oh, my heart!
Love, love, love,
One of those Yous in the store, holding hands with someone, and nestling those I love—Ranae