We have two massive kayaks that mostly sit in our backyard. They are bulky and hard to load onto the roof rack. And we are busy.

But for the past few months, our youngest son has been asking to go kayaking with me. To say we were surprised at his persistent request would be an understatement, as my son is that he is not entirely comfortable near water. His past year has been marked my great caution due to big feelings of fear and anxiety.

This week we finally carved out the time to do so. And I am so glad that we did. He had a blast growing in his confidence and realizing his own capabilities to do new things. While he was learning these things a few yards ahead of me, I had a profound experience with God.

Cerebrally, I know God is near. I can quote ample verses and explain omnipresence theologically. I could easily take you to Acts and commend the God “in whom we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17: 28). I love meditating upon and praying Psalm 73: 28: “But for me, it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge that I may tell of all your works.” Yet kayaking behind my son, I experienced the intimacy and joy of his loving presence and nearness in ways that are continuing to shape me.

Initially, my son was terrified to the point of wanting me to connect a tow line from my kayak to his. Rather than succumb to his fears, I encouraged him to keep getting more comfortable in his own kayak. As he settled into a rhythm, he grew more confident to row ahead of me. Every once in a while, he would look back to make sure I was still there, gauging the distance between us.

None of this is shocking, but what so gripped me was my great joy and delight at watching him figure things out. I could have kayaked much further and faster, but I wanted to be near my son. I stayed behind to let him explore and set the pace, smiling and beaming with pride all the while. When he looked back with a proud smirk, my heart nearly leapt from my chest.

God is near, of course. But this God who is near is near with a beaming pride and a patient disposition. He delights in being near us as we learn to navigate the paths he has marked out for us. His presence provides the necessary security we need to attempt new or hard things. His from-right-alongside encouragements strengthen and embolden us to move beyond our doubts and fears and into the freedom and spaciousness he purchased for us.

His nearness is not a micro-managing, suffocating, intrusive nearness. He delights in his nearness to us as much as we need nearness to him (Acts 17: 27). He is both the King who is far ahead of us and the gentle Father trailing behind us (Isa. 52: 12; 58: 8). What manner of love is this? He dwells in a high and holy place, but he delights to lovingly shadow his children as their source of intimate strength (Isa. 57: 15).

May you know the security and strength of his nearness today as you go about your day. He is so very near.