By: Alex J. Nagem © May 3, 2025

“Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20)

“Seek the LORD and His strength; seek His face continually” (Psalm 105:4)

“Humble yourselves in the presence of the Lord, and He will exalt you” (James 4:10)

An area less than one hundred feet from my home is where I am surrounded by trees awaiting a new life in Spring, and those that did not survive the early winter storms of wind, cold, and ice. They had fallen to the ground, waiting for decomposition, never to rise to the heavens in the splendor of full glory. Have we survived the winter of our days, awaiting a new life to raise our hearts and minds to the heavens in the splendor of full glory to God, or have we stopped our search for the face of God by becoming unconcerned and bewildered?

In Hebrew, the word panim means both “face” and “presence,” suggesting that to search for God’s face is to seek His presence. I’m not referring to His constant presence in the Eucharist, but rather the way His presence – His face – is revealed through the actions and character of those around us. The face of God I seek is found in His presence within others.

”Truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do, he will do also; and greater works than these he will do; because I go to the Father. Whatever you ask in My name, that will I do, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask Me anything in My name, I will do it.” (John 14:12-14)

I have prayed in the name of Jesus, yet the answers did not always come in the way I expected. Over time, I began to understand that God had indeed answered, just not according to my timeline or desires, but His timeline and will. It was often my free will, personal ambitions, or the influence of others that clouded my ability to see His response. It’s easy to let our wants take priority, unintentionally placing God second in our lives. Now, I strive to listen more closely, like when I walk through the woods, attuned to the playful chatter of squirrels in the trees, the rustle of chipmunks on the forest floor, and the cry of a hawk soaring overhead. In that quiet attentiveness, I’ve learned to recognize the gentle whisper of God guiding me forward.

As Psalm 111 reminds us, “Awe of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdom”. I don’t always welcome the path before me. I often wish it were easier, less burdensome. But still, I pray each day for guidance, seeking to find God’s presence in others. How we face our challenges becomes a witness to those around us. Will we accept the road given to us, as Jesus accepted His, or will we turn away in search of a path that only appears to be easier?

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “Silence in the face of evil is itself evil: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.” The face of God is often obscured from sight by the pull of earthly desires. Yet we are called to remain mindful of His supreme greatness and worth. As Scripture reminds us: “If you have been raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” (Colossians 3:1-2) Though I’ve never seen manna fall from heaven to feed my family, I still must work to provide for our needs – and yes, at times, for our wants, as well. The tension between earthly responsibilities and heavenly focus is real, but through it, I strive to keep my heart aligned with the things above.  

This week, I had the privilege of meeting a remarkable woman-someone who had experienced more seasons of God’s creation than I, yet carried herself with a humility that immediately drew me in. Her smile was warm and genuine, the kind that made you want to linger in conversation just to see it again.

She shared with me a quiet guilt she carried. She had been blessed with what she considered wealth while others struggled to get by. I was struck silent by her words. Her “wealth,” by most standards, was modest. Yet her heart was deeply moved by the needs of others. Her generosity flowed quietly, without fanfare, and was offered in a way that protected the dignity of those she helped.

What touched me most was her willingness to step into the burdens of others, to share in their struggles, to offer mercy not just in thought but in action. In her, I witnessed the presence of God, not through grand gestures but through a life lived in love, humility, and self-giving. Our encounter left me with comfort, joy, and a quiet excitement, knowing I had seen God’s face reflected in this “young at heart” woman.

As Dietrich Bonhoeffer so powerfully wrote in Life Together: “It is the fellowship of the Cross to experience the burden of the other. If one does not experience it, the fellowship he belongs to is not Christian. If any member refuses to bear that burden, he denies the law of Christ.”

In times of uncertainty, pain, and disbelief, God is present. I can say with conviction that we should offer our suffering to Jesus, who bore the weight of the cross-but living that out is not always simple. When I’m in the midst of hardship, I’ve cried out: “Lord, what do You want from me now? Haven’t I sought You? Haven’t I repented? Haven’t I followed the path You place before me?” And then-sometimes gently, sometimes not-I get the proverbial smack on the back of the head. A reminder that the path we walk isn’t meant to be easy. The destination, the end of this journey, is sacred, and it must be both appreciated and earned. This road is not about comfort; it’s about formation. It’s about who we become through our choices, our perseverance, and our faith.

Take a moment with that, maybe more than a moment, because it’s not just about the journey. It’s about our actions along the way. Those actions will be judged.

We are called to welcome God into our lives through the Eucharist, through prayer, and through our actions. This may not be the precise theological explanation one might hear in a priest’s homily, but I offer it simply, as a humble traveler seeing meaning on the journey. Like a walk through the woods on a cold, sunlit day, where the rustling leaves and distant birdsong invite stillness, I move through life listening for the whisper of God. I seek His presence in others and hope to reflect His presence in myself. I look for those who come to celebrate the Mass and receive the Eucharist not out of obligation, but out of true belief. I search for sincerity, for passion, for the unmistakable signs of the face of God in others.

You are remembered in my prayers, as I hope my family and I are remembered in yours.

Vocatus Atque Non Vocatus Deus Aderit

Alex J. Nagem