Traffic flowed in all directions following the entanglement of roads. A train passed by. Overpasses, underpasses, toll roads and bypasses were filled with automobiles. People drove by while talking on cell phones. I felt overwhelmed merely viewing the constant motion of everything on my most recent trip.

The purpose of the journey was to visit my son's wife Kim and their children while he is in Iraq. At his home, too, life was in constant motion. His three children, combined with the two traveling with us, required unwavering attention. They were constantly on the move. Children must do something to fill their time. Adults, as well, have to stay occupied. Whether one is cooking, cleaning, working at a career, playing or even reflecting, a part of the anatomy is always in motion. Although we often attempt to do nothing and try to keep our thoughts from wandering, it's impossible to stop all motion, either physically or mentally.

While traveling, we stopped often along the way to eat and allow the children to stretch and exercise. I like to shop and sightsee. I noticed that most stores we entered resembled the roads we traveled. They too were congested. People were swarming in all directions. They were talking on cell phones, shopping, trying on clothes, glancing upward to see item location signs and waiting in lines at the cash register. Does everything always keep revolving? I asked myself. The answer I received after I reflected on the condition was "Yes." Everything indeed keeps going on. It must.

Remember the rusty old truck sitting outside that wasn't driven for years? It had stopped moving for so long the motor had ceased working for good. Its parts corroded just as ours will if we stop using them.

While on the road trip, my husband and the two children accompanying us dined at various restaurants, often buffet-style establishments. I recognized the hustle and bustle there. Some people hurried to get their food, others were calmer and less hurried. Nevertheless, I kept absorbing the fact that everybody was moving in some way. Cooks were cooking. Servers were waiting tables and most patrons were talking, except for a few sitting alone. Even their eyes were attentive, looking around watching what was going on while they were eating.

It would be nice, I thought, if I could get away for a while and do nothing. But life doesn't work like that. When I think I can acquire an amount of peace and quiet, something happens. I am needed elsewhere or I'm attending to a pursuit that I enjoy. Things end only to start over. So regardless of how persistently I try for stillness, I'm back in motion once more.

The animal kingdom is subject to constant activity too. Creatures forage for food, search for mates, raise their young and keep their eyes peeled for threats and predators. Healthy streams, rivers and oceans continually flow. Life within them is on the go.

The weather swings back and forth. Clouds move and we experience rain, sleet, snow or sunshine. How then can one listen to and hear God, I mused, if life's pulse never stops? I ponder how God can keep up with all the goings-on in the world. Amid all the never-ending churning of life it seems that something or someone might get lost in the shuffle.

After reading Psalm 139, "Where can I go from your Spirit or flee from your presence," I realized that regardless of life's pace, where I am or what I'm doing God is always there. Although it's incomprehensible to me, the Holy One can, indeed, keep up with the challenging hubbub of constant movement among God's creation.

Ellen Shuck holds degrees in psychology, religious education and spiritual direction and provides spiritual direction to people at her office.