I find warm bliss lying on the septic tank behind our house. Letting the sun burn my cheeks and talking to Jesus, listening to his reply in the wind. Telling me he’s here, he’s with me.
I’ve stopped killing ants and bugs that crawl my way and instead I watch where they end up. I love to look at my feet at the end of a long day playing soccer with kids with snotty noses and ripped clothes. The dirt caked on my soles and shoes reminds me of what really matters and how nothing stays new for long.
I love watching the goats and chickens, and listening to the birds as they sing. I think how much more Abba loves me than them, yet he gives them everything they could ever need. Just as he does me.
Then there’s night time. I stand outside in the middle of our compound, no lights or electricity around us. Just millions and millions of stars. More than I have ever seen. Actual evidence of the vast and the never ending love of the Father.
I don’t look in mirrors, I don’t check my phone. I don’t brush my hair or worry about my clothes. I breathe in the warm air, I paint pictures of flowers and mountains. I write to the Lord, I thank him for his faithfulness. I read his promises over and over because I find something new every time. I hug my friends, I eat what’s in front of me. And I stay present in the moment that I’m given. A moment I’ll never have again.
