“There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.”
— Albert Einstein
I sit on the end of the dock watching the moonlight sparkle on a silent lake, little beams of light dancing with each other in a happy jig. After a day filled with swimming and playing, breaking up fights and giving time outs, cutting food into tiny pieces and helping little feet into pajamas, I am thankful for a quiet moment out here in the dark night, alone with the fireflies and mosquitoes. After a day filled with a thousand ordinary highs and lows, I am thankful for a moment of calm.
I look up at the bright moon – a giant disco ball casting out a million flecks of light – and there doesn’t seem to be any doubt at all that God is right here, within those bouncing glitters of light. Then again, it’s easy to find God in places like this.
Where is gets a little harder to find God is in the less glittery parts of the day – the uneaten bowls of cereal bowls, whiny kids, dirty dishes, email complaints from clients, and homework battles. It can be easy to see God in a child’s laugh and crashing waves, but what about when that child’s laugh yields to an arm-thrashing tantrum or the crashing waves become the harbinger of an impending storm? Well, then things get a little trickier.
You can read the rest of this post over at my friend Michelle DeRusha’s site. where I talk about spiritual connection, miracles, God, and what grace means to me. Michelle is one of the warmest, most supportive faith writers that I know. She is truly the epitome of grace. Oh, and she has not one – but two! – books coming out in 2014.
2 Comments
You amaze me with your writing (and speaking) talents
I love those quiet moments alone, although I tend to have mind early in the morning rather than late at night. They are so restorative, and peaceful, and for me, make the less glittery parts just a little easier to power through.