The morning is mist and I try to hold it but it slips through my fingers again. I am thinking about manna, about the Bread of Life, when I take to the sidewalk and run. I don’t think about the blue of the sky or the way the sun plays on water or the noise of traffic in my ears. My feet are pounding that rhythm that my body knows and I wait for the breath to even; I wait for the muscles to warm. I am lost in my head—immune to that busy hum of life that breathes around me.
And suddenly there’s beauty.
Reams and reams of gold spun on frosted green and I am rich as I gather with my eyes. It’s right there, between two lots of the ordinary. Between houses and a trophy shop…behind a photographer’s studio. If I look close enough, I can see there used to be something else there. A house? A barn? Are these memories of the time when this land thrummed with the riches of farm and pasture? These remnants of decay—long-forgotten—blink at me now through a sun-soaked haze. I wonder what it was and how it must have filled this space.
And when did beauty fill the gap?
How long does it take for emptiness to fill? And how does beauty move in so silently, so quiet-like and with such grace? It’s the way the world turns—that slow spin from one season to the next. The whole earth a grace story.
Let your empty be filled today. Open your arms wide for grace. Let beauty enter in. The seeds are breaking open in the long sleep…waiting for light to grow.
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:
I’m a morning person and happiest in a place with no walls. Give me a bed of grass and a blanket-sky and I will dream deep in wonder. But a good story takes me to this place too. And a poem? Even better. You can always find me here. Or connect with me on on facebook, twitter, or pinterest.