Recently, I talked to a young woman about God. Among other things, we talked about talking to God. At times, she said, she felt like she was talking to air.

How would you talk differently if you could see him, I asked.

“I’d ask how his day was,” she blurted out.

When we talk with people we see, we converse. We ask how their day was. We ask how they are feeling. We ask questions and listen to the answers. We take turns. We don’t talk just about ourselves. We don’t spend all our time making the other person talk about us, about what they want us to do, about what they want us to learn, about what they expect from us.

Well, I suppose we do actually do those things with some people. With people who are our counselors, we talk about ourselves, and in the process are directed to areas to celebrate and areas to work on.

But we don’t view those interactions as conversations.

With people who are our teachers, we do listen for instructions and goals and expectations.

But we don’t view those interactions as conversations.

With people who are friends or more, however, we exchange feelings and dreams and frustrations. We expect that the relationship will last longer than a series of sessions or a semester.

A couple weeks ago, out walking with the dog, I had asked God the very question she suggested. I asked him how his day had been. I laughed at myself. And then I listened.

I realized that by asking God to talk about himself, I moved myself out of the middle of the universe, or at least, my universe.

“But his day is always perfect.” My young friend laughed.

Even a perfect day is made better by sharing it.