This morning, was all wrong. In the first 15 mins I spilled something, dropped something, hushed 3 dogs barking at the non-existent and imaginary, and just the second when I thought all the dogs were back in the house and ready for their breakfast...Zoey went zipping out the door barking again. If you've ever tried to catch a Jack Russell as they are zipping by you, well, good luck with that. And then, well, there was that too, the heartache. Kaitie left this morning, with the girls, and her husband to live in Florida. I don't know when I will see or hold them again, I don't know that my beautiful little sunny girl, Marley Jane, will remember me when they visit, and my heart aches to hold that precious little girl one more time. I didn't get to see them before they left. I didn't get to hold that little girl in my arms. I didn't get to hold the new baby, Elle, again. But the heartache, it's there more in what isn't; that Kaitie didn't make time to say goodbye, that she made time for everyone, except her family. And the heartache sinks deep into the bare, skinny bones of that relationship that's messy, and difficult, instead of warm and loving.
I sit in my morning place, needing to read my devotional, to meet with God for a few moments, something I look forward too and need before my day begins, and my IPAD, which usually resides on that spot on the table, isn't. Another stick on the stack, ready to topple and crash. Flustered, I cry 'God, right now I just need to sit with you. It's all wrong, upside-down this morning, and I just need to find peace and rest in you right in this minute. Meet me Lord. Calm me. Give me peace.' And I fall forward. Into God....folded hands meet bowed head and before words to prayer form in my mind, I know His presence. I feel light warm against my cheek; I know His peace, His rest, His reassurance, His arms wrapped around me, comforting, loving, knowing. And I know with certainty, and not for the first time, that even when He seems silent to me, He is always there, He always loves me. He always hears me. I can't help myself, and I smile at Him, all glowing and warm, close to me, my Heavenly Father, comforting me, loving me. I'm a child again, lost in His amazing love, and I smile, because I know that's what He wanted for me this morning. It was His gift to me. He knew where I was at, where my heart was and He knew that I needed Him and not a devotional...Just. Him. Being God, He didn't show up how I expected, and I think that's just maybe how He gets my attention sometimes. "Forget the devotional' He seemed to say, "just sit with me," Be still and know that I am God."
In that precious gift of moment from the Father, an overflowing river of gratitude made it's way into my heart and my day. He calms me. Calms the storm of heartbreak and frustration. He invites me into His space. He prepares me in those moments when I am still with Him. He fills full the empty places. He is my Heavenly Father, and like I pursue a better relationship with my youngest daughter, My Heavenly Father, constantly pursues a deeper relationship with me. It's ironic....all this work, stuff, things, we do to pursue God, to be closer, deeper with Him. Really, it's His pursuit of us where I see Him most often. He is ever ready for the opportunity to show up and show us His Glory.
Later that morning, at a stop light, I cling to that "glory moment," relive it...and know that His Glory is all around if I choose to see and hear. Before the light turns green, my gaze lifts up and a reflection is etched into the overhang of a gas station, a silhouette of three crosses, the one in the middle taller then the others. God's Glory, revealed.