The sidewalks at lunchtime around Market and 5th Streets in San Francisco are like the Kennedy Expressway at rush hour. Crowds shuffle shoulder-to-shoulder in short bursts, then come to a complete standstill at intersections.
I worked there in the '80s. One day, headed out for a turkey sandwich with a coworker, the frenzied pedestrian traffic halted at an alleyway. I was so engrossed in our conversation, I turned my back to the intersection so we could continue talking face-to-face. Even though his mischievous smile and darting eyes made it clear my friend wasn't really listening, I kept talking. A couple minutes later he reached out, hooked me by the collar and pulled me toward him.
That's when I noticed a huge tractor-trailer inching around the tight alley corner was about to crush me like a traffic cone.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I spat out, annoyed. "Just wanted to see how long it would take you to notice," he said, amused.
I like to think Holy Spirit is like that rig...a delivery vehicle for spiritual substance that's literally too big and too close to escape notice, except of course, when it does. Thankfully, even when distracted by earthly matters, Spirit makes itself known...sometimes with a smile; sometimes grabbing us by the collar; and when necessary, in a brush with a big rig.
May your spiritual peripheral vision be expansive and clear.