What can I say about the Living God? What can I write that is new – different, enlightening? To say that I can only write about my own experience is not true. I can write about my experience, my thoughts and the things that the Lord reveals to my heart – but I can also write about His own Word. And, I can write about the things that people have shared with me.
I am grateful for the books that I have read by other people who have a living relationship with God. I am grateful for all the thousands of teachings I have listened to and drank deep from their waters. I am grateful for the paintings, and the songs, and the dances and the meals and the buildings – for the roads and bridges… to all you in the world who step out of yourselves and create, I thank you. I drink from the wealth of all that has been given and I salute you. The world is richer because of you. So, here I am giving to you what I have to give. Sometimes a word, sometimes a song or a work of art. If these things do not bless you then turn the page and be on your way to find another. If you are blessed, then, Hallelujah. Glory to God the author of all that is good, and holy and beautiful. Blessed is He who has created us in His image and invites you and me to create and to express… love.
Visiting my son in Florida before Christmas I was overcome with the continuity of love. David and his wife Ashley surprised me. They waited until I was alone in their kitchen and Ashely said – we have something to show you. She showed me an image on her phone. I couldn’t guess what it was – so she pointed and said this is a heartbeat… a fetus heartbeat. A baby? Is this your baby? I asked. Yes… They looked at me as I felt this wave of golden joy pass over me as I realized, and I cried. Their faces are printed forever in my mind. The radiance of the expectant ones.
My child is having a child.
The next day David made cinnamon buns from scratch – without a recipe. As I watched him in the kitchen moving with such ease I felt my mother standing next to me. My favorite thing she made were her version of cinnamon buns – she called them Swedish tea ring. I loved them. There is nothing like the smell of yeast bread rising. I could never make them because yeast doesn’t like me or something. I can make a great pie – but the bread gift skipped a generation! The continuity is so beautiful. Here is my son, who is going to have a child of his own, baking the very thing I loved most in my mother’s kitchen… feeling her smile beside me. So simple a moment and yet so big.
It always comes down to love, doesn’t it? For God so loved the world... If I have not love, I am nothing… Love is the beginning and love is the end. And, love is the middle.