Dog slobber and radiant diamonds
- Bailey
- Jun 21, 2015
- 3 min read
Life is small, so we have to live big. This has been carousel-ing my brain for a while.
My mind presses up against the window of my eyes. You know, how a toddler smooshes her face against the glass to see the tiger better at the zoo. Or how a dog slobbers all over the car window until you roll it down. My mind is frantic to get the best look at what’s going on right now– crazily focusing on every detail and pacing back and forth to see it all.
Moments come where the reality of leaving feels so real I become overwhelmed with and even numb to the hugeness of it all, but those moments quickly fade into ones where the reality of leaving feels like a dream and I can’t contain a smile.
The sad moments are few are far between, which I take as both a magnificent blessing and sure sign*. Peace that transcends understanding rules in my heart. Jesus has shown up in too many ways and proved Himself too many times for me to doubt now. I expect Him to carry me through the hard and the sad, and He delivers by doing so, by providing peace and promising an eternity with no more sadness.
Knowing that two months from now this time will be gone, I so desire to waste no time making it count. Every second is on purpose because I have breath and that’s all it takes for extraordinary to happen. The little things, the everyday things, the staying-at-home-watching-TV things, add up and put forth the good I put into them. That’s why I’ve missed so many Tuesdays: instead of putting good in, I wait for it to come out.
Leashed to my feelings, blindly following them through the sunny hilltops and murky swamps of this heart-meets-goodbye mess, I choose to be the passive passenger who watches the dog stick his head and tongue out of the window in rapture.
A season of both closure and new beginnings demands my full attention. Intentionality begins at the end of passivity. Intentionality unleashes passion to transform Truth into conversations, days into chapters, and thoughts into prayers. Intentionality happens on knees, early in the morning and late at night and in the middle of chaos.
I’ll chase You through the pain I’ll carry my cross ‘Cause real love Is not afraid to bleed { Rend Collective Experiment }
This summer is a challenge. Not only because the totality of it is spent stateside (I can’t even put that to words yet), but also because the totality of it is spent in transition. Right now feels like God is shifting the gears of my days from park into drive, but He’s hanging out in neutral for a whole summer.
What’s crazy, though, and has Jesus all over it, is that even when God’s not working, He’s working. The Spirit of the Living God lives in me, and I know it because He’s doing some remodeling all up in this heart. I can’t act like I know where God’s leading me with this season, but He’s proven Himself trustworthy, so I rest in neutral with Him at the wheel.
Grace lets us hum the parts of our lives we don’t understand while we figure out the words. { Bob Goff }
*When the “few and far between” sad moments do come, they are hard and heavy and deep. I am sad to leave, but I am also thrilled. I’m just grateful I have something to miss so much.
