Holy God Signal, Batman!

Confession: I'm not a big fan of comics. I'm just not. Maybe it's because I'm a girl, or maybe it's because fantasy literature never really hit it big with me, but I just don't dig reading about superheroes. One thing I do find neverendingly cool, though, is the Bat Signal. Imagine the following scene: you're walking down an alley and some jerk comes and steals your bag. "Oh no!" you say, "What am I to do?" Why, start shining the Bat Signal, of course! Batman will be there in 0.002 seconds to come clear up whatever ails you. I don't know exactly how one reaches the proper authorities to illuminate the Bat Signal, but like I said...not a fan of comics.
It gets me thinking.
Why didn't God create the God Signal?
Why can't we just shine a flashlight with a cross or a Bible or an Arc of the Covenant sign on the clouds and wait for Him to show up? "God, I need you, come sort this out, will you?"
That'd be convenient...and entirely lazy.

Yesterday was crisis day.
Come to think of it, this entire week is crisis week.
Pretty much all of my friends and I are in dire need of a God Signal.
Example: Karen* was not doing well. Suffice it to say that a potential gentleman suitor was not acting very gentlemanly, and she was not happy about it. When she messaged me, I was in the middle of my own personal pity party over my crisis, but as soon as I realized how upset she was, I grabbed a sweatshirt, threw on some flip-flops and tossed some pudding cups in my bag. This was definitely a time for chocolate, and since they were 100-calorie cups, there would be no guilt. It was the perfect remedy.
When I arrived at the scene of the crime (here's where if this were a comic, it would say "...and the hero arrives..." on the top), I found that pudding wouldn't cut it. This was serious. Her God Signal was definitely shining. We took a trek to our favorite cafe for lunch ("Our hero knew just what to do!"). As we took turns lamenting our problems, we ordered something new and exciting--two pear and brie sandwiches. To the culinarily uncultured, this may sound disgusting. To those in the know about cheese, it sounds like heaven. To you I say: yes, my friend, it was. As soon as we took our first bites, Karen and I looked at each other in relief. All problems were solved--ungentlemanly gentleman suitor who? The day was saved ("...and the hero goes running off into the sunset, waiting for next week's adventure!")

I don't pretend to think that it was me who saved the day--it was all God, who just chose to work with me. Rather, I finally chose to work with God. As unbelievably convenient as it would be to have God float down on a cloud and fix everything in our lives, it probably won't happen. And it's probably that way for a reason. Karen's God Signal was up. So was mine. We saw that in each other, and by helping each other through it despite our own problems, we were Christ-like to each other. I'd imagine that's why God made it that way--to force us to act on our beliefs as a community of believers. He's tricky that way. It reminds me of that verse where (I think) Jesus says, "Wherever two or more are gathered in my name, so shall I be there as well."



*--names changed to protect the innocent and potentially embarassed