Long ago, I stopped worrying when I don’t feel Jesus. I used to dread the feeling of no feeling. Only slowly have I come to realize he is not like what I would make him. He’s totally unpredictable. Sometimes he’ll show up in overwhelming intensity in the middle an infomercial on kitchen knives. I’ve had to learn to make the connection of how he’s caring for me from how he cared for those he walked with on this earth. He held and cradled lepers when he could have healed them from another town. When Peter’s mom was sick and probably overwhelmed by all the commotion in their suddenly overrun home, Jesus lifts her head up and affectionately comforts her as he heals her. John responds to his affection by laying his head on Christ’s chest as they were around the campfire. Mary knew his tenderness so well, that she was shredded to her soul at the tomb, in the thought of spending even a day away from him. To be known by Jesus was to feel love deeply, to experience, in words and touch, a presence that wiped away fear and loneliness. So, in a brief season of human history when I cannot predict a sense of his presence, I must chose to predict it’s presence. And when I find myself risking to trust the immediacy of his affection, I more often than not, experience it…And it is a universe more wonderful than any human can offer.