Under the City

Down the steps and into the hot, fetid air of the subway station. Since we arrived in the city, all I could smell was garbage and all I felt was low, low, low. My eyes felt hot and wet and I swallowed hard, trying not to cry the leftover tears from last week.

So we went lower under the city until I wasn’t sure anymore how to get back up.

Standing on the platform, as quiet as a subway station can get, watching the faces. Across the tracks I could see in big block letters the name of the station. And as I shifted from foot to the other, I saw what was all around.


One step to the right and the pillar shifts so the letters read CHRIST.
On the wall behind me and down the platform and everywhere, if you looked with right eyes, there He was.


In every passing body, every in-drawn breath. In the fields I’ve not yet walked, someday, and in the city where I am, now.

CHRIST. Bold and simple and true.


The hand and eye longed to take a picture but no. And so I replayed that moment again and again for days. As we walked around the city, I kept it in mind. That moment. Do not forget.


Nothing separates us from God’s love and when we shift our perspective, He comes into sight. Awareness is everything.

Sure, that hound of heaven is always on our trail but you have to allow yourself to be caught. You have to take that step. Change your perspective and reorient yourself to Christ. Do what you have to, whatever it is, to get back to that essential spot.


But I wonder now, as I saw the face of Christ in all those strangers, God’s presence everywhere, whether anyone saw that face in me.



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