I used to think God was somewhere far away.
Up in the sky. Outside of me. Watching. Judging. Handing out blessings like they were raffle tickets.
But the more I sat with the teachings of Jesus Christ, the more one idea kept popping up like a neon sign: oneness with the universe.
Not as a pretty phrase. As a real way to live.
Because if I’m one with God, and God is everywhere, then I’m not separate from life. I’m not separate from love. I’m not separate from opportunity. I’m not separate from the breakthrough I’ve been praying for.
Oneness With The Universe Is What Jesus Was Pointing At
There’s a line in John where Jesus says something that sounds confusing at first: I am in the Father, and the Father is in me.
If you grew up hearing God is “out there,” that line hits weird.
But when I hear it now, it sounds like Jesus is saying: “Stop acting like you’re alone.”
Because oneness with the universe isn’t about being “special.” It’s about seeing what’s already true.
God isn’t only in churches. God isn’t only in “holy” moments. God is in breath. God is in your nervous system. God is in the quiet intelligence that keeps your heart beating while you’re asleep.
And yes, I even believe God is in the stuff we call “money” and “things” too, because where would God not be?
If God made everything, how could anything exist outside of God?
That question alone changes the whole game.
Why “I Am In The Father” Isn’t As Strange As It Sounds
Here’s a simple way I explain it.
If I bake a blueberry pie and cut you a slice… what is it?
It’s still blueberry pie.
You wouldn’t look at the slice and say, “This is separate from the pie. This slice has its own independent pie identity.”
No. It’s part of the whole.
That’s how I think about us.
Not as separate beings trying to “earn” God’s attention. But as expressions of the Source itself.
This is also why Jesus talks about the kingdom of heaven being within. Not across the ocean. Not locked behind a gate. Not reserved for “perfect” people.
Within.
When I remember that, I stop praying like a beggar. I stop talking to God like God is hiding from me.
That shift changes how I talk to God, because the conversation starts to feel like connection instead of performance.
I start relating to God like a presence I can return to right now.
And that’s where peace shows up.
What “Empty Space” Taught Me About Reality
Now let’s talk about the part that makes some people roll their eyes.
The “everything is energy” part.
I get it. It can sound like a bumper sticker.
But here’s what I mean in everyday language: so much of reality is invisible.
You can’t see Wi-Fi, but it runs your whole house.
You can’t hear a dog whistle, but a dog can.
Your eyes pick up a small slice of what’s real. That doesn’t make the rest fake. It just means your senses have limits.
When scientists look deeper at matter, they discover something wild: what looks solid is mostly space. The chair. The wall. Your body. It’s not “nothing.” It’s just not the kind of “something” your eyes are trained to read.
So when I talk about the invisible part of life, I’m not trying to turn the Bible into a physics class.
I’m just saying this: the world is bigger than what you can measure with your five senses.
And if that’s true… then possibility is bigger too.
That’s one reason the idea of oneness with the universe hits so hard. It tells me there’s more happening than what my current situation is showing me.
Oneness With The Universe Changes How You Pray
This is where things get real.
Because a lot of people pray like this:
“God, please… if you’re out there… help me… I’m not sure… I hope…”
That prayer is full of distance. Full of fear. Full of separation.
And when you’re stuck in separation, everything feels heavy.
But when I practice oneness with the universe, my prayer shifts.
It becomes less like begging, and more like aligning.
More like:
“Thank you. I’m guided. I’m supported. I’m not alone. Show me what to do next.”
It’s not that I stop asking.
It’s that I stop asking like I’m disconnected from the Source of help.
And I’ve noticed something: when I pray from connection, I start noticing doors. Ideas. People. Timing. “Random” opportunities that don’t feel random at all.
Not because I forced the universe.
Because I finally stopped arguing with it.
The Ego’s Favorite Lie: Separation
If there’s one trap I see over and over, it’s this:
The ego convinces you that you are separate from God… separate from people… and separate from what you want.
So you look at your dream life like it’s across the ocean.
You look at money like it belongs to “them.”
You look at love like it’s for “other people.”
You look at peace like it’s something you might get later, after life calms down.
But separation is a story.
A loud story. A convincing story.
And it shows up in simple thoughts like:
“I’m not good enough.”
“I’m not smart enough.”
“I missed my chance.”
“It’s too late for me.”
“It’s hard for people like me.”
If you’ve ever thought those things, welcome to being human.
But that’s not true. That’s conditioning.
When I come back to oneness with the universe, I remember: the same Presence that animates life is animating me. I’m not outside of it.
And if I’m not outside of it, then I can change. I can receive. I can build. I can heal. I can create.
Not by strain.
By remembering.
How Oneness With The Universe Turns Wanting Into Having
There’s another teaching Jesus points to that I think most people misunderstand:
“To those that have, more will be given… to those that do not have, even what they have will be taken.”
Some people hear that and think it means, “If you’re rich, you get richer.”
I don’t hear it that way.
I hear it as a lesson about consciousness.
That is the power of consciousness, because what you repeatedly embody begins to shape how you notice, choose, and receive.
When you live in the feeling of having, you start acting like a person who can receive.
You notice the opportunity.
You show up consistently.
You stop self-sabotaging at the first sign of delay.
You carry yourself differently.
That’s why oneness with the universe matters so much. Because when you remember you’re connected, you stop fighting life like it’s against you.
You start trusting that life can work with you.
And yes, I believe your desires shift too. Because when you’re grounded in connection, you stop chasing “stuff” to fill a hole. You start building a life that actually matches your soul.
Still ambitious. Still growing. Just not desperate.
A Simple Practice To Live From Oneness With The Universe
Let me give you something practical, because I don’t want this to stay in the clouds.
Here’s a quick way I practice oneness with the universe in real life:
1) Pick one ordinary thing. A cup. A wall. A tree. Your own hands.
2) Pause and remember: “This is not separate from God. This is made of the same Source.”
If the word “God” feels loaded for you, swap it.
Spirit. Consciousness. Universe. Life.
The label isn’t the point. The recognition is.
3) Bring that same recognition to yourself. “I’m not separate either.”
4) Then ask one clean question: “What would the connected version of me do next?”
Not the fearful version. Not the rushing version. Not the bitter version.
The connected version.
Sometimes the answer is simple:
Send the email.
Make the call.
Forgive.
Drink water.
Apply for the job.
Create today even if it’s messy.
And that’s a miracle. It’s rarely fireworks. It’s usually a new direction that you actually follow.
That’s how you turn “spiritual ideas” into a changed life.
Final Thoughts
If you’ve been living like God is far away, I’m inviting you to try something different.
Try the experiment of oneness with the universe for a week.
Sometimes spiritual awakening begins that simply, with the choice to stop relating to life as if you were cut off from it.
Not as a philosophy you repeat. As a lens you practice.
See God in people. Even the annoying ones.See God in your body. Even if it’s tired.See God in your goals. Even if they feel big.
Because when you stop treating life like it’s separate from you, you stop shrinking.
And when you stop shrinking, you start receiving the kind of guidance, courage, and timing that makes you feel like, “Wait… maybe I was never alone.”