446. judgement, jealousy, justification… mine to own, my sinful nature to recognize, mine to gain freedom from. Naming them, and asking God to forgive. Again. Often. Again.
447. finding a jewel beside the bench by the lake, recognizing the metaphor in the single cubic zirconia in a cheap, rusted setting… seeing myself as tarnished, vintage, yet priceless in God’s sight.
448. that behind the heavy lowness of grey clouds, vapour that we cannot grasp or touch or break through often for weeks at a time, there is a glory of sun and warmth and potential for growth, within a vast blue of sky. That this is a season of waiting, perseverance, rest… and more.
449. wind crisp against my face, icing my skin, and the rush glow in my cheeks when I get back inside the warmth, teens and dog welcoming me home.
450. steam rising from a cup of hot coffee with milk and sugar, the warmth expanding.
451. son asking how my walk was.
452. that God can be found outside the walls of the church.
453. son studying hard for his finals.
453. daughter kissing me.
454. finding there is unity in marriage and creating new ways to get there.
455. deer nibbling shoots on orchard trees… following their tracks along my street.
456. iris poking up out of the snow as the mercury announces the possibility of Spring.
457. open mics, music and poetry… blessing God for creativity in all its forms.
458. the profound simplicity of my husbands words, “just breathe.”
459. telling God everything. Yelling sometimes.
460. remembering the naming of the gifts. Re-visiting this way of gratefulness.
461. that this world and these people are wonderland, the fullness of God’s glory, the echo of his voice, that my eyes become dull and my heart crusted over and my ears deaf, and I need to take time to remember all he has given.
That confession and turning is the restart button… that God’s grace is always waiting… and action always follows.
Soli Deo Gloria,