The Backpack-carrying God

On my morning walk, I noticed a mom holding the hands of her two early elementary age children, on the other side of the busy brick street. When traffic cleared, she let go and they ran across, jostling oversized backpacks. On their way to school, I assumed, the children trudged in front of me up the side street. From the front porch, Mom shouted encouragement.

Do many believers think that’s a picture of God with us? We’re on our way to study or work for him, hauling a huge backpack.

Do we experience God as watching over us, certainly, but from a distance? He’s above us, on the porch, able to see a long way. He’s calling to us, “Keep it up. No, don’t dilly-dally there. Good job. You can carry that load.”

Is that what he means when he says in Matt. 28:20, “I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.”? This is the God-man who wept with Mary and Martha at the tomb of Lazarus. It’s the Spirit of Jesus who settled like tongues of fire in that upper room where 120 followers waited and prayed for “power from on high.” The one who is with us always is the Father-God of whom Isaiah says, “In all their distress he too was distressed.” (63:9)

He’s not just standing on the porch, cheering us on. He’s carrying the pack, walking with us, holding our hand.

Jesus, sweet Jesus, we long to experience, daily, that sense of your manifest presence with us. More Lord, more.