Elsewhere

Devotional

Elsewhere

We spend a surprising amount of our lives somewhere else. Yesterday calls us backward. Tomorrow pulls us forward. Desire points toward something we do not yet possess. Regret returns us to something we cannot change. Worry carries us into circumstances that have not happened. Even our thoughts can take us far from the room in which we are sitting. And all the while, there is Here.

The song, Elsewhere, begins by trying to find the boundary between the two: “I stand where I am, right Here, And look to see where Elsewhere starts.” It sounds almost like a geographical question. Surely Elsewhere must begin somewhere. But there is a problem. Every time we reach the place that was Elsewhere, it has become Here. We can travel toward the horizon, but we can never stand on it. That simple paradox opens a much deeper question: Do we sometimes do the same thing with God?

The bridge asks: “We search for God in Elsewhere, Like some distant holy place, Praying toward a far-off There While standing in His grace.” There are times when God can certainly feel far away. Scripture does not dismiss that experience. The Psalms contain cries from people who wondered why God seemed distant or hidden. Faith does not require us to pretend that we always feel His nearness. But our perception of distance does not determine God's location.

David asked, “Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence?” and discovered there was no such place. Even at the farthest reaches, “even there shall thy hand lead me” (Psalm 139:7–10). God declares through Jeremiah, “Do not I fill heaven and earth?” (Jeremiah 23:24). Paul, speaking in Athens, says that God is “not far from every one of us” and adds, “For in him we live, and move, and have our being” (Acts 17:27–28).

The problem, then, may not always be that God has failed to come near. Sometimes we have assigned Him to Elsewhere. Perhaps we imagine we will encounter Him when circumstances change. When the grief eases. When the answer arrives. When we become more spiritual. When we finally understand. When life settles down. When we reach some future version of ourselves that seems better prepared to meet Him. But every one of those places is still There. And God is meeting us Here.

Jesus promised His disciples the Comforter, saying, “he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you” (John 14:17). He told them, “Abide in me, and I in you” (John 15:4), describing not an occasional encounter but an ongoing life of dependence and communion. Before His ascension He promised, “lo, I am with you alway” (Matthew 28:20). That does not mean God exists only within our immediate experience. He is infinitely greater than the moment we occupy. Nor does it mean that every circumstance around us represents His desire or approval. It means we do not have to travel to some imagined spiritual Elsewhere to find the God who has promised to be present with His people.

And that brings us back to Now. The song says, “Yesterday and Tomorrow Are both Elsewhere from Now.” Yesterday matters. We learn from it. We remember God's faithfulness in it. Sometimes we must return mentally to old wounds so that truth can be brought to them. Tomorrow matters too. Scripture commends wisdom, preparation, and faithful stewardship. But neither yesterday nor tomorrow is where we are presently called to live.

Jesus says, “Take therefore no thought for the morrow” (Matthew 6:34), and James reminds us, “ye know not what shall be on the morrow” (James 4:14). There is humility in accepting Here. This is the moment we have actually been given. This is where we can obey. This is where we can forgive. This is where we can pray. This is where we can notice someone who needs us. This is where we can give thanks. This is where we can take the next faithful step.

And perhaps that is why the strange little word game at the center of the song, Elsewhere, becomes something much larger. We keep asking, Where is Elsewhere? But perhaps the more important question is: What is God asking of me Here?

The cover of the song captures the paradox beautifully. A woman stands looking toward a distant figure beyond an extraordinary passage through the landscape. From where she stands, that figure is clearly There. But imagine standing beside the distant figure. Suddenly that place would be Here. The geography changes with the traveler. God does not.

So perhaps faith is not always about finding the bridge that takes us from Here to some better, holier Elsewhere. Sometimes faith is opening our eyes to the grace upon which we are already standing. The song asks where Elsewhere begins. Scripture directs our attention somewhere far more important: to the God who is already Here.

Prayer

Father, forgive me for the times I have searched for You somewhere beyond the life You have given me today. When my thoughts become trapped in yesterday or consumed with tomorrow, bring my attention back to Your presence and Your truth. Help me remember that my feelings do not determine whether You are near. Teach me to recognize Your grace in the place where I am, to obey You in the moment I have been given, and to trust You with every Elsewhere I cannot yet reach. Keep me rooted in Christ, attentive to Your Spirit, and faithful Here and Now. In Jesus’ name, Amen.