A Holy Nearness
Table Talk
Setting the Table
You are welcome here. Come just as you are, bringing whatever is on your heart today. Take a few moments and allow yourself to just be. Take a couple deep breaths, grab yourself a cup of coffee, light a candle, do something that brings you comfort. Allow yourself to be present in this moment.
Consider how, sitting among the mountains or beneath a vast sky, we can feel both small and seen—aware of our own humanity, yet somehow present and divinely held within the vastness of creation.
“To be loved means to be recognized as existing.”
— Thich Nhat Hanh
“To be loved means to be seen, to be known as you are and not as you should be.”
— Henri Nouwen
Psalm 139.1-6
O God, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O God, you know it completely. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it.
Food for Thought
For about the past eight years—ever since our now ten-year-old first learned to string words together—we’ve been in that wonderful, sometimes exhausting phase of life where we are constantly asked questions.
Questions like: Why is the sky blue? Do fish get thirsty? If I eat a seed, will a watermelon grow in my stomach? What are eyebrows for? What do clouds feel like? Why do bad words exist if we’re not supposed to say them?
We are, by nature, meaning-seeking creatures. Deep within us is a longing to understand the world and our place in it. We need to know: Where do we come from? How are we connected? Where are we going? What is the meaning of life? Is there a God—and if so, what is God doing? Has God abandoned us?
These questions are not new. They are ancient—woven throughout human history and experience.
The Psalms are an ancient book of prayers and poetry—the collective heart-song of a people trying to make sense of their world and their relationship with God. They hold together joy and sorrow, trust and doubt, belonging and loneliness. The psalmists wrestle with the same questions we do: God, why are you so far away? Why do you hide your face from us? From where will our help come? Why have you forsaken me? How long, O God?
Our own questions echo in their words.
The Psalms remind us that our fears and longings are not hidden from God, but are held within the loving awareness of the One who made us and calls us beloved. They show us that faith is not the absence of struggle, but the courage to bring our whole selves—our pain, confusion, and hope—before God.
Psalm 139 is both a song of wonder and a confession of vulnerability. It acknowledges that to be known by God is both comforting and unsettling. The psalmist speaks of a God who is closer than breath, who has knit us together and knows us completely. Even when we feel lost or unseen, we are held in an inescapable and gracious presence.
Perhaps this is the most astonishing truth about God—not simply that God is the creator of all things—the galaxies, the oceans, the intricate balance of life—but that this same God cares deeply for each one of us. The One who set the stars in motion also knows when we sit and when we rise. The One who shaped mountains and seas also knit us together in the depths of the earth. The vastness of God’s power is matched only by the intimacy of God’s care.
Psalm 139 reminds us of the gift we have in a loving God—to be known and loved fully, not in part. To bring our whole selves—the weight of our imperfections, the shame we hide, the fears that chase us, the mistakes we wish we could undo—and to trust that the God who knows us completely also loves us completely.
Even when communities are imperfect, even when our paths are complicated, even when we do not believe that we are enough—God’s love persists.
To experience God’s presence so closely can transform how we see ourselves and one another. When we practice this kind of love, we become conduits of God’s grace in the world. We create spaces where people can take off the armor they’ve carried for decades, where questions, doubts, pain, and hope can all coexist.
We remind one another that our humanity comes alive in relationship—to be fully human is to be fully known, and in that knowing, fully loved.
To truly see another person—to name their existence, their struggle, their grace—is an act of holy nearness. To say to each other: You are loved. You are seen. You are known. You are knit together in divine goodness. You are not alone, for holy love follows near you always.
When we care for one another in community like this, we join the divine dance of knowing and being known.
On a sticky note or small piece of paper, write the words 'You are loved.' and place it somewhere you will see it often this week. Each time you notice it, pause for a moment and remember that you are fully known and fully held. Let it remind you to carry that same awareness of love into your interactions with others.
Think of someone in your life who may feel unseen or unheard. What is one small way you could help them feel noticed or valued? Now think of the people in your community that might feel unseen, unheard, or marginalized? How can you pay attention to them in ways that honor their dignity?
For a printable version of today's reflection Click Here!
Blessing
Loving God,
You know us and you love us.
Help us to see others with that same love—
to listen, to care, to be present.
Let your nearness guide us
and your grace hold us always.
Amen.
A little Table Talk for your table...
When in your life have you felt fully known and fully loved? What was that like?
What questions, doubts, or longings are living in you right now? How do you usually carry them?
In what ways do the structures around you—schools, workplaces, neighborhoods, faith communities—help or hinder people from feeling known and valued? How could we create spaces in our communities where people feel seen, heard, and known?
Try taking it to the Kids Table...
What are some questions you have about life, God, or the world around you?
Who are the people in your life that help you feel safe, seen, or loved?
How could you show someone else that they are noticed, cared for, or important today? How can you remind yourself of these same things?
Meet This WEek’s Writer...
Lin Story-Bunce is a North Carolina native and lovingly calls Greensboro, NC home. She earned a Masters of Divinity from Wake Forest University and has served a wonderful and thoughtful congregation at College Park Baptist Church since 2009, pastoring to families and their faith development. Most of all, Lin loves the moments she gets to connect with her family, snowboarding with her wife, and keeping up with their four kiddos and two energetic pups. Lin is a teacher, preacher, dreamer, and procrastinator who has a knack for trying to do way too many things in far too little time.
To hear more from Lin throughout the week, follow along on our Instagram!