My uncle and aunt celebrated their 50^th anniversary this summer. It was a marvel to behold: that a couple in their seventies could last together for this long (taking into account life expectancies and marriage failure rates)—and more importantly, that they still liked each other after all these years.

You could see it in their expressions with each other. They were unafraid to touch each other in casual ways; they smiled and exchanged pleasant looks many times; they helped each other with their sentences, thoughts, or ideas. They danced together at the drop of a hat. They genuinely seemed to enjoy being in each other’s presence, and it radiated throughout the room.

Uncle "Stick’s" been an extraordinary relative. The guy is a rock. While not the largest member of the family—he’s actually physically the smallest among his brothers despite being the older one—he’s been the go-to guy, the “steady-Eddie”, the guy who’s quietly in the background, offering a helping hand when needed, working with more than a few relatives facing crises in their life, providing a loving and stable environment for his own family, maintaining an active religious life through his Catholic faith. In many respects, he’s been the quiet presence many families around him relied on and off throughout the decades.

It reminds me of how the presence of Jesus often frames our days and our lives. We of the busy-hurried-rushing-about kind of people, hurtling head-long into our furious thrills or our reckless lows, many times miss the quiet steady pacing of the presence of God around us. In our hectic pace, we may usher ‘prayers on the fly’ as we’re waiting at a stop light for a green light, quickly scan a page of scripture and toss an amen into the ring, or squeeze in a moment with Jesus in between meetings, dinner, and the latest TV fad before collapsing in bed (or falling asleep on the couch with the tube on).

Yet, in the midst of this roller coaster ride of daily living, Jesus awaits. He awaits in love, he awaits in joy, he awaits in great patience for the moments we give Him. He radiates His gracious love for us in even the fleeting moments we spend in conscious awareness of his presence. He is the Quiet Presence that frames our comings and goings, only being noticed (or sometimes sought) when we need it most. But He remains there, and in those moments we need him most, He loves just the same.

At one point, Uncle Stick was sharing a few thoughts with the crowd about memories from 50 years of marriage, when he said: “you know, I am not a Biblical person, but I am remembering a few words that Jesus shared with his disciples in the Gospel of John. He said this: as I have loved you, so you must love one another. As I look around this room, I see the reflection of that here tonight.” Almost everyone was moved by the simple poignancy of his observation.

And there it was—the “quiet presence” remembering the Quiet Presence. Jesus, while He may not have been spoken of (or to) much at all that night, is revealed once again in a simple and powerful way.