When the feast is spread, wide, across the table, spilling over onto little children’s laps and smeared across fingers and faces and filling our bellies, I want to remain hungry.
Because He satiates in such a way that we can both be filled, and hunger for more.
On a day when the world stops to give thanks, I want to move that little corner of my blog over here — front and center — to lift up a memorial.
He doesn’t need it, but He loves it. And my insides are stretched when I do it.
When we adore — when we lift our words and our eyes and our life up at Him, with His Word as the starting place — it incites hunger.
And, friends, blessed are those who hunger and thirst. For they shall be filled.
May our thanksgivings invite new hunger.
“Many, O Lord my God, are Your wonderful works which You have done; And Your thoughts toward us cannot be recounted to You in order; If I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered.” Psalm 40:5**
I live in increments — minutes and hours and in-between loads of laundry and meals — and You run through and over them all. I size down and You make Yourself large, in my small lens. I capture portions of You and You say, oh, daughter there is so much more.
I adore You, Father, whose works I can barely comprehend.
I have a moment in Your sanctuary, where life quiets and I know Your nearness and I am certain I will walk away changed and, yet, You say, this is just the beginning. I’ve barely pierced the surface of the depths of You. Your works undo me and they outrun me. They surround me.
I can’t escape from this love. It enfolds me, even my weakest parts.
You are good and Your good translates into love, not just spoken, but scrolled onto my life. If only my eyes could catch it all. I adore You, Father, both nuanced and stark against my “normal” so that I might see You. You come down and yet You call me higher. Your life and love, so large, but accessible to me, so small.
I love Your ways. They are mystery and they are for my searching out. YOU are a mystery and You are for my searching out. This life in You is rich and I am hungry for so much more.
I never deserved this kind of love and You not only nodded Your head towards my faltering ways but You scooped me up and spoke to me about me. You think, long, about me … and, yet, You made me.
Who is this God?
My Creator who formed every one of my cells still has thoughts about that which His fingers fashioned.
The holy exchange of Your holy against my flesh cannot be measured. I adore You, Father of unending works of wonder in my life.
Thank You for this love.
Thank You for Yourself.
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**So what do I do with these posts, you ask, other than just read them? First, if you haven’t yet, read: Why I Adore and Morning Chai, Explained to give you a context for this little space on my blog.
If you are compelled, I invite you to participate. Set up a space and time in your own life to begin adoring. Over laundry or dinner dishes, on your commute to work, or in the wee morning hours — five or ten minutes is a great start. You can use the verse I list here every day or two as a launch pad for your own adoration. (Showing Up gives you some practicals.)
Then practice praise.
I promise your weary soul won’t regret it.
You can see all of the Morning Chai posts with this link: http://www.EveryBitterThingisSweet.com/posts/chai/ and you can easily subscribe to these devotional meditations as they are delivered, by using this feed: http://www.EveryBitterThingisSweet.com/posts/chai/feed or by entering your email address in the second box on the right-hand side.
And a note: Photos compliments of Mandie Joy. This girl has also set me up on instagram. Friends, it took several sittings for me to know exactly what that means and I still don’t quite get it …except, that you can now find updates and useful graphics on Instagram @everybitterthingissweet. Mandie keeps me in the 21st century.
