From under patchwork, that old black dog shifts and weight is now against my foot, loyal fuzzy weighted dog hug. I miss grandchildren and wonder what their waking moments will be like… try to slip into a child’s starry wonder of life where every new day is an adventure, a mystery waiting to be discovered, unfolded like a letter. I whisper to see more.
And then I hear it – faintly at first, then the increase. Bells, spirit-life bells ringing, calling me into the day I yet know nothing about. It’s still a blank page, this day. I feel the invitation to join God in the wonder of writing on it, after the line of His finger pointing to gifts He’s hidden for me, helping me find them. I realize the joy of trusting, of moving forward with expectation of the great, of wonder, of never doubting that I am cared for and provided all I need.
I step forward like a child, my Father showing me, teaching me, pointing to early light on wood, to how the dog stretches, to a father’s lined face, a mother who prays, the design and flavor of banana-goodness. I find the simple. And everything seems new! Trust builds and I live in the moment. The now. And I write on today’s page with each step of experience.
Words of truth always have to leave the paper and become part of who I am, what I choose, what I do. Always I must look to see God in every person, every moment and not elevate myself, but come as a child – choosing love and thanksgiving – for it is in seeing that I see. And God is behind all the faces in His image, the sunrises, the stars over pines, and I feel the wonder of Him.
(c) Robin Lawrimore, January 2012