May means another calendar page turned. It gives me satisfaction that time is indeed moving. Yet it also seems like I should be looking back on May like it was a long time ago.
While I am sometimes tempted to bemoan the fact that Hawk is over 5,500 miles away from me, and that the time difference is such an inconvenience, and that we don’t talk near as much as we used to; I never want to be ungrateful for all the blessings that we do have. Like the blessing of Wi-Fi and the fact that I can still see his face even though an entire ocean separates us. Like the fact that the time difference is only a quarter of a day, instead of a half or entire day. Like the fact that we still communicate frequently. So many blessings. I just have to choose to acknowledge and see them.
At the thought of blessings, I recall the words in blue on the parchment of my journal:
I greedily want more moments like Sunday. Sunday, as I sat in church watching people walk forward and the glory was too great. Overwhelmed, I couldn’t help but internally whisper, “Lord, it’s too great. Who am I to see such glory? Who am I to feel such magnitude?”
And yet how quickly I move on, how quickly I forget.
In the midst of the hard weeks You open the veil just slightly – slightly enough for my breath to catch, my heart to swell, and me to whisper “too much” for fear I’d die from the majesty.
I want more of these moments. I need these moments. I live for these moments.
These seconds added together that reveal once again a true purposeful life – that the dark weeks aren’t forever, and even in the night, He shines glory-filled. With us, Emmanuel. How great is our God.
I write such words before I even discover the message elsewhere. Fingerprints everywhere to remind me the blessing of remembrance. Remember the glory. The glory of God, the glory of God with me.
Read. Highlight. Star.
The only place we have to come before we die is the place of seeing God
– Ann Voskamp (“One Thousand Gifts,” 108)
I write in the margin: “Yes, LORD!” This is what I want. Moments. Moments with Him.
The words bring me searching frantically for another lesson, from another place, from this week alone:
“When we stop remembering, we have forgotten” (Beth Moore, The Law of Love).
Etch the words into memory. Remember, lest I am tempted to forget. Remember the God-glory moments. Remember those whispered, hallowed words – “Oh Lord, You are too much.” Too much, this glory, for my human eyes, my human body.
The Lord is great. The Lord is capable of BIG things.
Lest I forget —