Sitting next to the field at sunrise, I keep turning my head. The sky is so big I can't even take it in all at once. In my camp chair by the field, I’m wrapped in a blanket. The stars are still out, seeing the slow and gradual beauty as a new day dawns. Spectacular, every day.
See, all this beauty God is making, this gift. And he didn’t need my help for any of it.
I'm right where I belong, here, gaping upward, receiving, and giving thanks.
I’m learning much these days about being welcomed but not needed, as my role in my family shrinks. And in all the rearranging, I am being invited to sit more deeply and comfortably in a posture of receiving, of simply accepting beauty and grace.
Things will get more tangled as the day goes forward, as others get out of bed and there is work to be done. There are always competing priorities, open questions; the way never seems to be clear and straight. We muddle through and the sun goes down and we prepare to do it all over again.
But then a new day, a new invitation.
See all the things God is doing without my help!
I'm right where I belong, here, gaping upward, receiving, and giving thanks.
No comments:
Post a Comment