|Sonnet I by Ali G…|
|painting by Puerto Rican artist Enrique Mora (just captivating)|
There have been Christmas plays and Christmas concerts, Christmas parties and Christmas dinners, Christmas cards and Christmas shopping, and it feels like the good of the season has been crowded out for the busy. So on Friday, when something happens in Connecticut that makes the world stand still…the last thing we want to do is go to the office Christmas party. It feels wrong to eat and drink and laugh and make merry when there is so much loss. But these things have been planned for a long time and there are those who have worked with hands of love to make them happen and sometimes…sometimes the best thing to do is to be together.
So we go and I determine to see meet with God there.
And it’s not hard because our hosts are charming and the shining faces of friends feel like a warm place to worship. And even though the Name is not spoken; because I look—I recognize God there. We were fed in love and wrapped in conversation and the shadow that hangs over the day does not disappear but it becomes a part of the living and breathing and laughing and weeping that is life on this broken earth.
And as our host shows me around the house—sharing his extensive art collection he has painstakingly pursued from all over the world—his joy at these created things is contagious. And I am reminded of what Timothy Keller and Katherine Alsdorf say in their new book.
If we are to be God’s image-bearers with regard to creation, then we will carry on his pattern of work … we are to be gardeners who take an active stance toward their charge. They do not leave the land as it is. They rearrange it in order to make it most fruitful, to draw the potentialities for growth and development out of the soil …
So I let myself get lost in beauty—in swirling color and another’s joy in sharing his passion. And suddenly the world is kinder—broken, still … grieving, still. But kinder.
And I wonder if this is how we make it through–sharing love this way. Scattering beauty. This life is my little patch of land. I want to tend it well—stir the soil well for the planting. Redeeming the broken bits into something beautiful.
How do you embrace the God-joy? Every Monday I’ll be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him.
Grab my button at the bottom of the page and join us:
The Playdates button: