"We have never been called to define God, we have been called to behold Him." - Abraham Joshua Heschel

Moment in Time Photography - Blog

November 15, 2010

Moments in my days where I yearn for signs of spring in a world on the cusp of winter.
Is there light enough in the days to sustain?
To give life?
To lay hope deep within one's soul?

There are days when I feel anything but in control, where the world seems to spin on an irregular axis and I am left wondering where I fit, if I fit and how to function in a life that seems to be spinning out of control. 

But God.

The days when I struggle to find the light, to see the joy, to feel the hope.
Those are the days when the truth of God's perfect, holy sovereignty is working its way into every fiber of my being.

Will I trust Him?

Do I trust Him?

Or do I say I trust Him for fear of looking deeper, of what I might find in the shadows of my soul, in the darkest corners of my heart?

Childish laughter over snow and the begging to be allowed to go and play, in the dark, in the magic of a moment.

Created by a Creator longing to fill us with joy.

There are tears that fall, sometimes unexpected, sometimes - not so much.

Tears that trickle in a stream on a Sunday morning, in a service where God is preached, where God still meets those who sit in pews, looking for Him, aching to enjoy Him, and sitting silent,

waiting to hear His voice -

In the stillness, in the morning, in the hymns, in the arms of friends encircling.

Oh the grace that flows from tears. The breaking of a heart, the crumbling of walls, the pushing away of boundaries and barriers as He works and moves and speaks to hearts who wait on Him.

Days that start of good, turn to quickly to days where words of grace are not the words that tumble from frustrated, tired lips.

Hugs of forgiveness and love.

The reminder that it is not just the littlest in the house who stumble, who fall, who react in a moment to the action of another.

His forgiveness covers as we huddle, heads bowed in prayer, begging for a change, a chance to try - yet again - to shine the Light that He died for us to live.

Oh for grace and joy to abound in the house.

To cling to a God who knows where we are at.

Who meets us there in the stillness or in the wild, crazy, loudness of the overwhelming.

And will I have courage to pray for the changing of heart, to pray for the dreams that start to form in the quiet corners of a heart, to hold on tight to Him in a moment, day, lifetime where He is {always} everything.

Where no matter where you, or I, are at this week, He is enough for every moment, in every day.

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