He is with me.

Light dribbles through the oak canopies to anoint my hair. I stroll through the neighborhood’s heady jasmine fragrance, holding my chin high. My cheek-straining grin is not aimed at that magnificent evening sky. My eyes do not sparkle in awe of coral-striped cirrus or the swallows’ aerial ballet.

HE is with me. 

His Spirit envelops my shoulders, seeping love-warmth through my muscles and marrow to the pit of my soul. My lashes squeeze together in delight.

He is WITH me.

My Lord exceeds remaining at my side, surpasses dwelling within. A vibrant pulse throbs inside my chest, drumming anew with divine courage. The concrete sections of sidewalk remain devoid of all other human feet. I appear to walk sections of my life’s path unchampioned, but ONE greater than any army or campaign team supports me.

He IS with me.

Frogs coo to me from the marshy reserve lot, demanding an account of my productivity. I turn past their corner and begin tisking off my fingertips of things done and yet undone. The Spirit nudges me with His sweet, peaceful whispers. I AM. God always was, and will ever be, but requests our address to Him NOW. Speak, Lord. I want to be present with You.

He is with ME.

The God of all Power and Brilliant Artistry crafted each oak leaf’s vein overhead, a lacing of moss among the branches, and billions of souls beyond my view that blanket Earth. The Lord cherishes His vast creation, yet drenches me with infinite love. My adoration for two children strains the limits of verbal explanation, yet His love for me eclipses my deepest passion by an unfathomable extent.

As I return to my doorstep, one aspect for emphasis remains. I must pass the message to be continued by you. Will you take a stroll with Him to define it for yourself?

If so . . .

He is with you.


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