I step out the back door. I can’t see him, but a robin is singing somewhere under the clouded sky. This moment is a gift from the One who loves me.
The wind pushes and presses against me as I run face-first into it. This moment is a gift from the One who loves me.
The reminder has been echoing through my days, inviting me to slow and savor the reality beneath the surface. This moment is a gift from the One who loves me.
As I drift off to sleep, this moment is a gift, a good gift from the One who delights to refresh me.
As I lie awake in the wee hours, this moment is a gift, a good gift from the One who is inviting me to snuggle closer, to know myself held, to share with him and let him lift whatever is weighing on me.
When the sun glints on crushed shells, flinging sparkles across the beach, this moment is a gift from the One who loves me.
When drips drop from the purple rim of my umbrella, soaking the knees of my jeans, this moment too is a gift from the One who loves me.
A grief—an invitation to let myself be held.
A joy—a call to laugh together.
A long, wondering wait for a response to an email—one more gift from the One who loves me and desires to bring me into his joy so is nudging me gently to turn again to him, to let go of fears, of outcomes, of control and savor his love in this moment.
Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
Therefore I will wait for him.”
— Lamentations 3:22-23