Sabbath Saturday

Yesterday my eyes and my heart were filled to their brims with a swallowing sorrow, baptized over and over again by crushing waves called, “Why?”

And then I talked to you. And I remembered.

And you responded, and so did He.

Thank You.

The Truth about today, the one ordained with glory, came to the forefront of my mind, and I started looking for the Light instead of stumbling in the dark. I committed to telling you about it so we could change our outlook on our todays as they melt into our everyday.

Saturdays are my Sabbath.

So we’ll keep this one short…ish.

Mountain drives and meadow walks.

Community gathering and Brazilian hot dogs.

Birthday songs and birthday cake.

An infantry of 10-year old boys and a cottage right in the middle of the battlefield.

Cookie baking and onion chopping.

A smelly candle and a cup of tea.

That was today.

Honestly, I didn’t feel God or hear Him much today. Not like I love to on this holy and set apart day of the week.

But I saw promises scatter and take root as seeds danced through the wind and as I sang to Him on the most beautiful walk.

 And I tasted the sweetness of community as six cultures came together around a cake and a trampoline to celebrate a child’s life.

And I gave thanks one cup of flour, one recipe book, and one egg yolk at a time during my newest routine… the two-hour Saturday night sanctuary in the big kitchen, with headphones singing His love from the front pocket of my apron as I prepare for Sunday’s lunch.

Quality time. With Him. And His people.

He’s there. When we feel Him and when we don’t.

When it’s a beautiful mountain scene and when it’s a messy kitchen that’s water just ran out.

And that’s exactly where I want to be. Giving thanks right there.

That’s the only thing that makes this string of todays become a story of everyday glory.