One evening, when I was in my late teens, I found my mother faintly weeping in her bedroom. Hers was a spirit infused with gentleness and faithfulness; hers was a heart rich with joy and compassion. But on this day she was trembling and confused.

"The ladies in my office," she breathlessly explained, "are always talking of sensing God's presence. I've never had those feelings. What's wrong with me?" Her question quickened her sobs. I cradled her in my arms and assured her of God's love for her. For some, I explained, God's presence is attached to the sensual; for others--no less faithful, no less beloved--God's presence isn't as palpable, but is no less real.

To those who share my mother's propensity, what would it look like to "flip" your longing? What might it look like to be less anxious around intuiting God's presence and more intentional around being present to God?

Jesus opened his Sermon on the Mount with the beatitudes--an invitation to the Kingdom of Heaven. The beatitudes, contrary to assumption, aren't a checklist of admirable qualities to be developed; rather, they're descriptive of those men and women who are most likely to be drawn to the Kingdom, least likely to be tethered to the ephemeral, most likely to be present to God:

"You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope...You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you...You're blessed when you're content with just who you are-no more, no less...You're blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God...You're blessed when you care...You're blessed when you get your inside world--your mind and heart--put right...You're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight...You're blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution" (Matthew 5:3-10, The Message).