The word “God” holds so many meanings for so many people. For me, God is not a being who’s higher than us humans. God is not a he or a she or a supreme person at all. For me, God is the spirit of love that resides in each of us. The spirit may be hidden beneath layers of ego … or it may shine brightly for all to see.
I know a fellow who runs a tire store near me. I’ll call him Rick. He doesn’t preach from a pulpit or meditate in a monastery. He sells tires, and stores my winters when it’s time for my summers. Anybody with a basic knowledge of tires could do the job, I suppose. But only a few could turn the waiting room and shop into an arena for love.
Rick’s voice, in person or on the phone, has a lilt – a lightness, a welcome. He speaks softly and pulls me in. It’s like he’s beckoning me to join him. It’s just so easy to feel connected in his presence.
I’ve watched Rick talk to customers who are in a hurry. Rick and his staff are very efficient but each job takes the time it needs to. I can’t even remember what he’s said to these folks but invariably the car owner mellows. The voice transforms from staccato to ballad, from harsh to easy. “How did he do that?” I ask myself.
Rick loves the classic car that sits in his garage. He’s spent many hours renewing the old girl. And he gets a faraway look in his eyes when talking about her. He’s beholding the beloved.
It’s been said that God works in mysterious ways. So true. And sometimes he hangs out in car bays … in the world of lug wrenches, tire gauges and hydraulic lifts.