All these months I’ve written, page after page of the graces of everyday life, even in Liberia, even in this dry place. I’ve written so many that I lost count. Lost count, but kept going;
first evening star, Orion with his belt tight, eager children, guards that bird watch…
Absorbed in ministry, or the work that doesn’t always feel like ministry, I’d continued to write out the daily graces. They piled and piled;
clean sheets, bookmarks (how you keep your place in a life that is constantly changing), pound cakes, and little boy smiles all carry me through my days here in West Africa…
So how was I to know that I soared past 1,000? How was I to know that the gifts that are grace were reaching nearer and nearer the sky?
I knew that the gifts were piled big because of the soul joy that collecting them has brought. Like a child at the seashore gathering shells by the dozen. I’ve known my bucket was full- full to overflowing, full and spilling over. I’ve clumsily tried to hold them all in so that I could take them to my Father and pour them out at his feet grinning. Oh, how I grin. How He grins- knowing they were all gifts from His own hand.
purple rimmed clouds, my brother’s laugh, bird silhouettes, pregnant bellies, bright blue walls…
I’m going to keep digging deep into the corners of my day to bring grace to the surface. I want 1,000 more.
“a diamond in the rough”