Today I’m craving little arms wrapped tight around my neck, and that little one’s voice, full of hope, “will you play with me?”
Today, I woke to a world deep green, and frosted with white.
Winter is losing, but refuses to let go without a fight.
Today, my heart aches with the gift of what is, and the longing for all that is “not yet.”
Today, I sip coffee and ask questions.
I listen to hauntingly beautiful, and sometimes sad music, because it fits the mystery.
Today I long for more of the knowing.
Not the words, but the Word wrapped in love. Glory bound up in skin.
Not just his skin. This skin.
Every star at His fingertips, every rock, tree and mountain competing with the angels, shouting His praise.
And where does He settle down?
In this trembling tent, this body of dust.
What’s a God like you doing in a place like this?
I make all things new.
Maybe this is one mystery best left unsolved.
Maybe it’s more miracle than mystery.
And miracles aren’t for solving.
They’re for witnessing. Wondering. Worshiping.
Every day. Getting what we don’t deserve.
Grace. Miracle. God with us.