God is with us. The baby’s name means and promises that He is always with me. The promise embodies God’s forever love and care. Forever. And now.

He is? He is with me? Are you sure because it’s just me sitting at this table. My puppy is with me, gnawing on my torn-up sweat pants. No faith required there.

I wonder sometimes, specially when the lonelies settle in. Sorry for my feeble faith, but are You really with me?

When I drive myself by myself, spend an entire day without an utter, wrestle with exclusion or inattention or… self-pity, remember the use-to-be’s. Show up please, Immanuel. Please.

He does. Mostly. A written message, a comment on a post, a thought, a lyric, a call. When He does show up, I know it. I feel it down deep. He’s with me. I’m thankful.

When He doesn’t, I already know I’m asked to trust, to believe, to come closer. I’m asked to give thanks anyway, to moment in His peace, to behold Him. To come closer. Yes. I will. Because without faith it is impossible to please Immanuel.

This girl wants to please Him. He saved me. Is saving me. Is always always with me — Immanuel.