Life is so ravishing right now that I cannot contain her with my poetics. Trust me, I’ve tried.
Never have I felt the truth of John 10:10 this deeply – I came that they may have life and have it to the full.
I am weary, legitimately exhausted from the daily grind, but I am bursting with happiness – actually glowing with this thing they call love. It is a deep, pure love and it has me radiating warmth.
In the midst of deadlines (which are stacking up faster than my dirty dishes), God is reminding me that he, the gift giver, invites me to lay down my head and rest. What good, he says, are gifts that you have no time to enjoy?
So this is me, remembering to breathe.
This is me being quiet.
And here is what quiet sounds like:
~Leaves waltzing their way to the ground. The world is humming along with life, singing a song I want to dance to more often.
~Chocolate chip cookies for dinner.
~Spontaneous drives to meet halfway, to hold one another and to look at the stars.
~Laughter. The good kind that starts in a place way down deep and spills out in great big hiccups.
~An absence of right words. Holla at my fellow creatives – ever feel like your art has gone MIA? Like those innovative bones of yours have dried up and gone to dust? Sometimes I think we need to be speechless. It is only then that we fully awaken ourselves to all that is happening around us.
~Lattes. So many lattes. Foam mustaches and pumpkin everything.
~Surrendering the workaholic tendencies. Leaving the to-do list at the door and showing up completely. Saying hi, I’m fully present because you’re important to me and you deserve that.
~Being late when it matters. Sometimes conversations carry eternal weight and what a shame it is when we turn people into points, running from A to B to C and prioritizing punctuality over the fragility of a friend’s heart. Pausing to really listen is a powerful action that speaks loudly of love.
~Praising instead of complaining. There’s some proverb about a dripping faucet that plunk-plunks drops of negativity into a metal bucket all day long. I’m quickly realizing that I would like to be a refreshing ocean spray or a cheerful little fountain over a grumpy tap.
~Hugs. I’ve always struggled with physical touch – what are healthy boundaries, what if it’s awkward – but a hug is a profoundly simple way of sharing devotion. Hugs are security and hope, faith and adoration all rolled into one.
~Sitting awhile in the arms of Jesus. He brings restoration and contentment, always.
Matthew 11:28 is my anthem today: Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.