Who is God in Edinburgh?

     As I walk the streets of Edinburg I carry Krish Kandiah’s question in my mind and heart: Who is God?
       I ask it as I smile at the statues of Oog Willie placed throughout the city. Who is God for the designers of these hopeful statues celebrating children.
      
​

​       I ask it as I enjoy fish and chips and a beer. Who is God for me, so fortunate to be able to take this trip?

​       I ask it as I watch waiters and waitresses clear tables. Who is God for people who have steady jobs? 

​I asked it yesterday as I wandered Inchcolm Island in the Firth of Forth. Who was God for the Augustinian monks who lived here from the 400s to 1450? 

           I ask it as I pass homeless men and women on every block of Princes Street, along the Royal Mile, and places in between. Who is God for those whose home is the street?
      I offer no photos, not because I want to avoid the sadness of it all, but in deference to these human beings. I am a tourist but these folks, with their blankets and jars where I can place a coin, are not tourist attractions.
    Who is God for them? Who is God for me as I walk by, sometimes dropping a coin, but usually ‘passing by on the other side’?