a real day

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

#LIVEWONDERSTRUCK Sky

...join with all nature in manifold witness

to thy great faithfulness, mercy and love...

This morning I read the livewonderstruck challenge very early. Some might call it coincidence. . . I choose to believe it's so I could pay attention to the sky today on my way to work.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

#LIVEWONDERSTRUCK Relationship

I say, "So why even get up if God has it all planned out?"
You say, "I think it's God's plan for me to get up."

And I love you.

There's a picture of Jesus. . . you might have seen it. It's one that's lit golden and he's looking off to the side. It hung in the hallway of my childhood country church. It seemed friendly. Like home somehow. When I see that picture of Jesus, I recognize him.

I know in my mind that his skin was like that of a burnt copper penny, but that golden lit picture is still my picture. A friend has one where he is laughing, and I like that one as older me, but the little girl me still loves the painting of Jesus that hung in my childhood church.

I drive by it now, on my fifty-minute drive to work. It should shout, but it whispers. I should notice because it's huge, huge on a billboard right off the road.

Some days I don't even see it. I drive by, auto-pilot me, and I might as well have been driving by reams of gray concrete. Some days I notice him with a cursory, "Oh isn't that nice. . .There's Jesus. . . Think about Jesus." I have not yet had a day where I meet that picture on the road the way that the painting met me in that hallway in that old country church. It's the same picture, and I'm the same me. Or maybe the sameness belongs to Jesus, and I'm the one who's different. Maybe my sixty miles-per-hour, ahem, sixty-two miles-per-hour life drowns out the whisper.

Me sprinting. You waiting.

Even this morning You were there waiting as you will be tomorrow and the next day. You've something to give even. And I ask and I ask and I ask. But forget to receive.

You offer peace. You offer hope. You offer purpose.

Regret is mine at this closed door. Help me to invite you in for pie and a slice of me. May I give rapt attention for even one moment in my life to the You that is waiting. May you grow my attention span and point the cross hairs of my life on that which is most beautiful and good. Albeit difficult and sacrificial. I know You some, and I do remember when You remind me. Oh I pray that You might remind me more, for my online calendar and reminders are set to distraction. Help me to know You and live struck by the thick wonder that is today.

There is a newness that only You can give. Thanks for the tapestry You're weaving, and that I might be one green thread in it. Green me up today and weave me into people and experiences that You've set out in your plan. It will be beautiful, for your designs are, if one can stand back up far enough to see them.