It’s Summer Everyday, and Christmas at the Same Time!

This morning I heard a car drive up. I was expecting them. Our children were driving to a wedding in the States, but stopping by first to drop off some items and stretch their legs.

I opened the back door and there she was. Our first grandchild, just one year old, standing between her mommy and daddy’s legs in her pyjamas, blonde curls dancing in the breeze.

Her little finger points and she utters a greeting in toddler jibber jabber. I laugh, and she mimics me back. I watch her teeter in and look around, and think “this has got to be the best way to start my day!”

When our children were born, we kept our heads down and noses to the grindstone, concentrating all our efforts on getting through the sleepless nights, learning all the do’s and don’ts. Now that our grandchild is here, it is like our heads are lifted – heaven has opened, it’s summer everyday, and Christmas at the same time. My prayer list has gotten longer, but my cup runneth over, Oh yes, and my videos, and text messages:)

My daughter reminds me of the toys in the spare room, and I rush to pull them out. Willow follows behind and is delighted to meet her old friend Bear, and Fisher Price Shapes.

I put the coffee on, and pull out a watermelon from the refrigerator, slice it up and watch her Daddy put her in the new high chair we bought. There’s even a bib still hanging there from their last visit. I perch on a chair nearby and marvel at her little fingers, how they pick up, and push the fruit in her mouth. She hums as she chews, and I melt.

They’re back on the road, and the flurry of excitement is now silent and still. I could pick up the toys like I use to, keep the living room all neat and tidy, but instead I’m going to leave them scattered down the hallway. I’ll leave her bib untouched on the table too. Want to keep the moments fresh. Signs of life, signs of joy, and the promise of a bright tomorrow.

God knows just what we need in the middle of our lives to press on towards eternity with purpose and joy!

Living Vertical in a Horizontal World

Good morning Jesus. It has been an interesting week, holding on tight to your hand and walking with you while you open my eyes and lift my chin gently upwards with the tips of your fingers.  You keep me living vertical.

Windows and doors open all around me, revealing images of this world’s reality, of our perilous soul condition.  Objects of desire are blotting out the Son, blind sheep still wander.  The weight of it wraps around my feet and threatens to keep me horizontal.  The pain of it tries to drown me, but you severed my ball and chain on the cross, and we walked into freedom from the tomb.

Since you joined the Father and left your Spirit here, there’s a lot of seeking going on, but not for you.  Your truth has been traded for brighter lights, bigger toys, man’s temporary fascinations.  As if we can compete with you and your design, your purpose and your plan? Have we forgotten the cycle of history repeating itself?  Our struggles and our triumphs are not original, or the first, or the last, but You are.

You hand crafted our intricate, brilliant minds in your image, kissed our lungs with air and yet some can’t even bring themselves to speak your name.  So much safer and hip to use the buzz words of the day, so non-committal, so plastic intelligence, empty, and most of all – powerless.  But my soul is not downcast.

You delight to say my name and called me before the earth felt the warmth of the sun.  The realization that I even bleep on your radar slays me, that I am so much smaller than the stars, yet matter more to you than the entire universe put together.  I am but a speck of star-dust orbiting around you.  You are a mystery magnet I cannot explain. I am in awe of you and go deeper, past the velvet curtains of your solar systems to the beginning and the end, into your heart.

How do I know you are real?  How do I know there is one God, and that you love me?  How do I know I have nothing to fear when I put my trust in you?  You have proven yourself over and over and over again.  Every living cell bears your seal, every generation has witnessed the majesty of your handiwork.

The closer I come to you, the faster you run to me.  I don’t need to see the exact lines of your face to feel you here beside me.  I am not ashamed, and I will not apologize for believing in a baby born in Bethlehem, born of God and born of man.

As the world grows darker, as the pages of time draw to an earthly close, even though my body may lie down before the trumpet sounds, keep my spirit living vertical.  I love you.

My Master is Painting

Driving alongside the Columbia River that divides the Washington and Oregon States. Even in the rain I see Him.

My Master is painting

I see his hand as we drive by

Broad strokes purposefully plunging the earth into the Columbia

These mammoth hills, his naked canvas

Rock, layered upon layer

Tufted with narrow upward strokes of straw grass

The tip of his brush stamping texture

 

Dabs of color, drips and runs the rain

He breathes in close and fog shrouds the sun

He steps back just one universe’s width, before

Smiling in yellow to highlight the peaks

He stills the wind with an upright palm

Rests his brush on Mars

and admires this valley

I turn to look out our rear view window

“This isn’t goodbye” I whisper

“The road ahead will lead us to more of You”!

©Cindy Palin November 11th, 2012