During a recent soul care retreat at Lake Michigan, I noticed an emerging theme: I felt one step removed from Jesus. Every morning that week, my soul care cohort practiced lectio divina together, where we listened to multiple readings of the Word and put ourselves into the scenes. 

In the story of Jesus calming the storm I imagined myself in a boat nearby, not one of Jesus’ named disciples. And I was gripped by my longing to be part of His inner circle. I wanted to be closer to Him, so I wouldn’t have to strain to hear His words, but I was kept at a distance.  

In the story of the healing of the man at the pool of Bethesda, I saw myself as a fellow paralytic, observing the miraculous healing from the shadows. And while I felt a degree of happiness for the man who was healed, I also faced personal disappointment to have been overlooked by Jesus and to not have experienced my own healing. 

So as I walked along the beach on the last day of the retreat, I asked Him, “Why am I feeling this way? Why do I feel one step removed from You and not close enough to be seen or heard?”

In that moment, He enabled me to experience His presence, just as I was. There was nothing I needed to do to draw attention to myself or make Him notice me. He was already there as my ever-present companion. Closer than my very breath.

Just as I belonged to Him, I realized, He belonged to me.  

Even though I had felt distanced, there on the beach, He reminded me that I wasn’t one step removed from Him. In His faithfulness and steadfastness, He would never overlook me or my longings or my needs.

As I gazed out at the abundance of sparkling water on the lake and listened to the seagulls overhead, I could hear whispers of His abundance. I didn’t have to strain to hear His healing words, that there is no limit to what He can do. He is completely and utterly unrestrained.  

And in His abundance, there is enough of Him to give all of Himself to everyone who seeks. 

“Return to your rest, O my soul, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you.” Psalm 116:7, AMP