I didn’t know they were right under the surface, just waiting for enough stillness to emerge.
As if it were a spring of water, I’m attempting to pour into my man the stories I drank in yesterday, Sunday, from life after life touched by God.
Tears of awe.
Each life a battle ground where forces of destruction, disillusion, or dysfunction for a season wreaked havoc. Like the storybook princess bound under a spell, long enough to forget there was ever a time outside its grip. For some, there wasn’t.
Until; enter God. Gently, providing the key to each lock, using human hands, one by one, He opened the cages inside their souls. One by one, contortions replaced by compassion, tensions by releases.
But yesterday, I saw more than restoration. I saw original design. I saw the purpose and potential woven into each Imago Dei, each spirit mirroring its Creator.
Embarrassed, I wipe my face in my scarf, as tears keep splashing the new hopes, dreams, and fresh ideas I bathed in, inside the eyes of the people I love. Not cheap, Hallmark movie sappiness, but springing from salty wells of loneliness and sacrifice and a grace so inexhaustibly deep – I have no words.
As we begin the landing, my flow ceases – my heart’s window washed, I’m now ready to see Guatemala…
“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He also has planted eternity in men’s hearts and minds [a divinely implanted sense of a purpose working through the ages which nothing under the sun but God alone can satisfy], yet so that men cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11, AMP)