Scavenger Hunt

My son's youth group did a scavenger hunt yesterday at church.

I didn't ask him the kinds of things they were supposed to look for but I have been thinking about my own hunt, as I scavenge (is that even a word?) through life looking for purpose. Looking for God's glory. For comfort. Love. Beauty.

Is there holiness in raising my face to the sun and letting it dry the tears that stream down my face, escaping my tightly squeezed eyelids?

Is there holiness in sitting at my desk, reaching for the words to describe God's truth, and being distracted by a huge spider that meanders, uninvited, along the baseboard, among electrical cords?

Is God's glory in snoring spouses?

Is there something divine in stitches from surgery and post-op meds that are instantly bitter on the tongue but stave off infection in the body?

My theology is challenged in the dichotomy of the divine and the mundane.

Yes, God is present in all of it. He made the sun's warmth. The unwelcome arachnid is His creation, too. (Ew!) He's in the nearness of noisy breathing. In the healing process. In my triumphs and in my epic fails.

He is everywhere and in everything.

And He wants to be found. To be seen. To be embraced and sought after.

This is my scavenger hunt list:

One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple. (Psalm 27:4)

Reveal yourself to me, Lord. Show me your beauty and your glory in everything today. Amen.

Morning Stillness

I sit and listen to the rhythmic whoosh of a sprinkler,

To the now-audible hmmmm of the refrigerator.

I gaze at still branches awaiting a scrambling critter or gentle breeze to stir,

And sip warm coffee, the color of summer skin.

I inhale deeply, peacefully, slowly.

Sigh.

Loved ones still sleep, unseen, unheard.

But I am fully, blissfully awake, embracing the potential of a new day.

Anticipation. Longing. Contentment.

All intermingled as I pause before the light is so bright.

And the noise is so loud.

While God is still near and I am fully present.

Poised, with open arms and heart.

Whoosh.

Sigh.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Sun in the trees

"From where I lay I can see the sun,

rising through the trees.

Before I face this morning rush,

I get down on my knees.

I lift my eyes and I thank you

for this life you've granted me.

I pray that every day I live, your heart will be pleased."

(from All I Ever Wanted, by Margaret Becker)

I was thinking of this old favorite song of mine this morning, as I sat watching the sun peek through the trees on its way to light the sky for the day. I was reading about the land allotments in the book of Joshua and paused to stretch my problematic neck. (See previous post for details.)

I caught a momentary glimpse of bright orange as the rising sun peeked through the cedars in the back yard. In that split second, I sensed God saying to me, as He had to Paul centuries ago,

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

(2 Corinthians 12:9)

Recently, I've been struggling with an ongoing personal issue and, even though I was stretching for physical comfort in that moment, God met me with a much deeper comfort. A reminder that although it only seems we see the sun for a second, it's always there. Even though there may only be a spot - a single ray - of sunlight shining into our darkness, it's never blotted out completely.

God's light - His comfort, His truth, His love - is always rising to fill our lives.

Whether we see the effects dimly - diffused through leaves or morning fog - or if it's brilliantly spectacular in its hues and intensity, the sun - like God - is constant and unchanging. We'll catch glimpses; then it will seem to disappear because we've lost sight of it. But God will use His Word, His Spirit, and other people in our lives to remind us that He is there.

As I still sit and see the shadows and lighting shift among the trees, I'm reassured. I sense God's peace in my present situation as well as for life in general, as He reminds me that His grace IS sufficient for me. Whether I need to pull up my big girl panties and suck it up because life is hard, or I lay out my heart before Him in my need and pain, what He offers is enough.