Mighty is the Power of the Cross

A quickening, a revelation, comes to me, causing my hands and thoughts to pause. In the midst of the mundane and routine, the Holy Spirit whispers to my heart and suddenly I see what I am doing. I am not just folding laundry like I do every day. These pink diapers, these little man shirts, this twirly skirt that I hold in my hands without a second thought, they represent the presence of remarkable gifts. No, I realize afresh, it isn't just clutter I am tending to, but the shoes of a man who calls me his and the toys and treasures of children who I call mine.

Is this really my life? I wonder. Am I truly this blessed?

It's so easy to see what's wrong, what's hard, what's challenging. I forget to see what's good, what's undeserved, what's a dream come true, what's a plain testimony of His amazing grace toward me.

For soft lamplight on a quiet evening...

for green that breaks through earth...

for baby fingers that trace my face...

for favorite books that line my shelves...

for oranges piled high in the fruit basket...

for downy heads resting on soft pillows...

for tomorrow-- for hope-- for a future...

for the prayers of others on my behalf...

for new friends and familiar hearts & faces...

for worship with the saints...

for a God who does not fail...

I am thankful.