Each day, God, is filled with exits and entrances.
I leave this room and enter that one.
I leave this emotion and enter that one.
I leave this thought and enter that one.
I leave this conversation and enter that one.
Sometimes, I feel like I leave your presence and enter…
But is that just a ruse? Theology tells me that you are omnipresent.
Everywhere. Not nowhere.
But first, O God, you are sovereign. That leads me to imagine that, if you so choose, you can choose not to be somewhere if you desire. But it’s not you, is it, that’s the focus here? It’s not you exiting and entering. It’s me. I exit. I enter. If there’s any separation from your presence, it’s me.
But theology also tells me, Spirit, that you indwell me. That you’re always with me. That you, O God, will never leave nor forsake me. That, of course, is different than me leaving or forsaking you.
So, I pray a prayer of forgiveness, God: Forgive me for forsaking you. Forgive me for leaving you. Forgive me for exiting. Forgive me for even entertaining the idea of entering any place but your presence.
And thank you for not leaving me, even when I leave you. Thank you for not exiting me, even when I walk out on you.