Presence in Absence

My counselor asked me what I'm most afraid of, as we're about to do another round of IVF. I was thinking I would say something like: a childless future, more bad news, more pain, more tragedy. But there was something deeper. I'm scared that the good will run out. I'm scared my good friends will wear out. I'm scared that the abundant grace, gifts, and attentiveness from God and from people will stop flowing.

I think chronic pain has a lot to do with it. People can sacrificially love for a good amount of time. Loving someone who is wounded on repeat is a lot harder.

God keeps assuring me that he is abundant -- that his love and life don't ever run out. He has an endless supply. This has comforted me in the IVF process where there is a finite number of embryos and a finite amount of attempts we have to get pregnant. God is bigger than finite human supply or ability. But I am realizing this word of abundance is about more than that.

There is a profound way that Jesus has been close to me in this season of grief. I've been studying John in my seminary class. Jesus is constantly preparing his disciples for his physical absence. He assures them over and over again that even in his "absence" he is still present with them. As they go out in the boat at night, Jesus shows up walking on the water (John 6:16-21). He promises them that he is the light of the world even when it is dark (John 1:5, 8:12, 9:5). He finds the people he's healed when they had no idea where Jesus went (John 5:14, 9:35). That has been my experience too. When God seems absent, he is incredibly present.

And that is what I am most scared of. I don't want God to ever go away. He keeps assuring me he won't. He will always find me. I know the source and that source never stops flowing.

"And he (Moses) said to him (God), 'If your presence will not go with me, do not bring us up from here.'" - Exodus 33:15