Looking for God.

Looking for God

In the beginning, God created heaven and earth—a profound act that set the stage for all existence. In my quest to find God, I turned my gaze inward and outward, seeking the divine in various forms.

I looked for God in the mirror, reflecting on my own being, realizing that I am a part of creation, intricately woven into the fabric of life. I examined my mannerisms, recognizing that my actions and intentions can embody the essence of the divine. I ventured into Nature, where the beauty and complexity of the world around me spoke of a Creator's hand, whispering truths in the rustle of leaves and the flow of rivers.

Yet, in this search, I came to understand that God did not confine Himself to a book or a religion. He did not erect grand buildings to house His presence; instead, He breathed life into the universe and into humanity. God created man in His own image, instilling within us the capacity for love, compassion, and understanding.

So why do we seek God outside ourselves when He resides within? The journey to find Him is not about searching in distant places or following prescribed doctrines; it is about recognizing the divinity that lies within our hearts and souls. In every moment of kindness, in every act of creation, and in every connection with one another, we encounter the essence of God.

Ultimately, the search for God is an invitation to look deeper—into ourselves and into the world around us—where we may find that the divine has always been present, waiting to be recognized and embraced.

Looking for God is like searching for air while breathing—

the very act of seeking is sustained by what we seek.

I thought I would find God in cathedrals,

their spires piercing heaven like needles through silk,

but found instead the echo of human longing

bouncing off stone walls.

I looked for God in scripture,

in ancient words carved deep in time,

but found instead the fingerprints of seekers

who came before me.

I searched for God in meditation,

in the spaces between thoughts,

but found instead my own reflection

rippling in the pool of consciousness.

I sought God in the face of strangers,

in the eyes of those who suffer,

in the hands of those who heal,

in the smile of a child who has no word for God.

I hunted for God in forests,

where trees write poems in chlorophyll

and birds sing psalms at dawn,

but found instead the mystery of being

that needs no name.

Then one day, I stopped looking.

In that moment of surrender,

like a wave realizing it is ocean,

I understood—

God was not lost.

God was not hiding.

God was the looking itself,

the eternal quest coded into our souls,

the gravity that pulls us toward truth,

the love that moves the sun and other stars.

We do not find God

as we find lost keys or missing socks.

We recognize God

as we recognize our own face in the mirror,

as we know the beating of our own heart,

as we feel the air we've been breathing

all along.