A story has been singing in my heart all month. I found this account in The Way of Love, a book with selections on the topic collected by editors Michael Leach, Doris Goodnough, and Maria Angelini. The experience described in “I Am Wherever There Is Love” took place in 2006. Joy Scribner tells how her daughter Meredith wrote a letter to God after Abbey, their aging dog, died. The four-year-old asked God to take care of Abbey, added a photo so her pet would be recognized, and then popped the envelope in the mailbox. One would presume this to be the end of the story. Instead, an anonymous person with a sympathetic, tender spirit left at the front door a beautifully wrapped copy of Mr. Rogers’ book, When a Pet Dies. Inside the book was the following note from God:

Dear Meredith, Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help and I recognized her right away. Abbey isn’t sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don’t need our bodies in heaven, I don’t have any pockets to keep your picture in so I am sending it back to you. … Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I’m easy to find. I am wherever there is love.

Not only am I enthralled with how one person cared enough to step out of a busy life to give time and energy in responding to this little girls’ broken heart, it is also the stranger’s spirituality and positive view of God that resurrects a joy-filled hope in me. The simple, caring deed of this one person assured Meredith of the presence of a divine being who is always there for us. It’s natural to want the big, bold G-O-D of Biblical stories—a burning bush, the annunciation, the transfiguration—yet a story as basic as one compassionate individual reaching out and touching the saddened heart of a girl who loved her dog reminds me that this compassionate Presence most often squeezes into our quite ordinary lives through the kind attentiveness of other human beings in whom this Love dwells.

We may not encounter the big G-O-D but there are endless times when this veiled Presence slips into our lives, into our hearts. John Kirvan tucks this profound reality into just a few lines in his book, God Hunger:

We impose limits on God we would never impose on our friends, deciding a lifetime in advance what kind of God shall enter our lives and under what conditions, a program that in every day life would leave us friendless or lifeless. …“I am,” says God, “where you are. No place is a stranger to my presence, no time of day, no time of your life. I am with you all days even to the end of time.” Be open. We are already and always in the presence of the God we seek, and God is present to us.

So, this October let’s keep our inner antennae on the alert—noticing how we can be the expression of the Holy One’s dearness by some intentional, caring deed we choose to do.

Abundant peace,

Joyce Rupp