Counting, always counting to 1,000 gifts. Do you have moments, even beautiful moments, that feel haunted? A belly laugh with a toddler, upturned nose, eyes squeezed tight, musical sweetness. But on the edge of that moment you feel, something, a heart ache, tight squeeze of sorrow in the chest. Sometimes I feel that's my whole life. Beautiful summer days with the chill of winter close on her heels; the promise of friendship, blooming sweet, tainted by fear of disappointment; let's don't even mention prince charming. New car, pet, toy, house, vacation, bank account all vulnerable. Loss stalks us. We're a susceptible people.
What is the antidote to living in death's shadow, the hunger of home always bubbling too close for comfort? Perhaps I'm being dramatic. But some days I feel akin to a petulant child, unwilling to be comforted or settled. Never satisfied, always hungry. I feel homesick and afraid, even on good days full of summer splashing, vacation play, singing, beauty drinking, loving, the whine rises in my throat. The answer, worship. Unbridled, needful, freely given, worship. I'm learning to turn the groan into a song.
Because honestly nothing else is ever enough, not even the best, not here. Only worship recalibrates my heart, tuning to language of heaven. Spirit testifies that guarantee will become reality. Worship, setting me free to delight in the only One I was meant to be satisfied by. In this life, the ache for heaven is the always knowing that one day the hunger won't return. So, I press in to worship, I count the gifts as worship, I listen to his heart in worship, I trust he'll lead me home as I worship.
91. Worship; knowing who, learning how, giving worship.
92. Unexpected visit from an old friend, sweet conversation.
93. Authors, writing words, flowing from hearts that have been with Jesus.
94. Daddy's and sons.
95. Quiet moments, refreshing in the hush.
96. Spiderwebs, strung across roses, shimmering strands of silver.
97. Imagination blossoming in little minds.
98. Laughter, ringing through rooms, bouncing of the walls of my heart.
99. Hot, dipping arms and legs beneath liquid cool.
100. Opening pages, comforting like an old friend, meeting living Word inside letters.