A friend commented today that I hadn't written in a while. I hadn't realized that it has been nearly a year since my last post. Gadzukes! I used to hear my grandparents comment that the older they got, the faster time passed. I thought it was a quirky quip of my elders. Now, I'm discovering they were right.
While I have had many periods over the last year of feeling like I had nothing to say, more so, I have realized that I am most inspired in the crisis moments. God has a tendency to show up greater when I'm floundering and at my whit's end (or more accurately, coming to the end of myself, I can see Him). I stopped writing in those moments because I didn't want people to think that my life was just one crises after another, that I was some sort of drama queen craving attention. But perhaps that was wrong. Perhaps I was silencing my original intention with this blog ... that God would be glorified through the messes in my life. Maybe I lost sight of that.
This year has been one of learning to be thankful for and in the moment. Of looking for the gift even in the yuck. Of floating my way through life like a balloon, unburdened by worries or cares because I have cast them on Him. I would love to announce that I have learned the lesson, can check that one off my list and move on to the next. Not so. Every day presents a battle, some bigger than others, and God seems to offer frequent opportunities to practice the lesson He wants me to learn.
Today, thankfully, I am at peace. Because I know so well the restlessness of fear and anxiety, peace's presence is so, well, peaceful! Circumstances may be anything but peaceful with outstanding medical tests, unrest in the east, tragedy in Paris, etc yet I serve a God who offers a peace and rest that we, in our finite minds, cannot comprehend. How grateful I am for that gift.
So this evening, I will rejoice in the little things ... the gift of song, croakily crooned by a sick boy cuddled on the couch playing Lego Star Wars; rich comforting soup on the stove; a reprieve from the gray drippy skies; coffee with a good friend; the dog at my feet ... and I will give thanks for the rich, abundant life that is mine, only by His grace.
