Sunlight and shadow flicker on my eyelids, head back on the rest. The train glides down the track, descending back to the city. Bliss curls up through me, swelling to fill my chest. That I am at this moment. That today has allowed me to wander slowly through it. To sit and let it seep through my cells and my soul. To stand and shout my joy to an attentive God-with-me. That paradoxical straight-righteous God who bent himself to breaking, so he could iron me out. Me, all excuses, defensiveness and pretensions. Jesus, none of these.
Now, to see a flash of blinding joy, a glory beckoning almost undoes me.
Yes. Possibility is here. We can, with this spirit coursing in our vessels, do what feels impossible and turns our hearts to lead. This cross and resurrection tears down strongholds, implants new hearts. It can transform the unchangeable, intractible. I am lifted from a shroud and planted fresh to flourish.
It's not rocket science, she says. The rightness of it hits me. The daily, the patience, the serving, the participating as I am renewed. It's not complicated, or secret. Just humbling.
I was encouraged by spending Friday night and Saturday at wkc (Women's Katoomba Convention)
Going on a family holiday for 2 weeks, so I'll be blogging again in October.
See you then. :)