Avert the Eyes

The hands scrubbed sudsy-breakfast leftovers from a dirty dish, and down and down was my head and my gaze as I vanished into work and buried my head in worries.
Worries about the coming day, that chemistry midterm.
Worries about the coming weekend, the week, the next month...

 

By accident my gaze made a jail-break for the window above that sink, and I paused and froze and let awestruck conquer the furrowed brow and the tension among face muscles melt. God has surprised me this morning,

 

A purple haze pillowed the sky, only broken by God's pink-dipped finger streaks stretching across sky in heavenly contrails. Trees reach for this beauty in vain, mourning doves howl to the rising sun, and I live in the blessing of this solitary moment to realize:

how much i  must be missing, burying my head in the toil and worry of life;

why, if I just raised the eyes to my Creator, and the splendor, and the pure, and the grand, and the truth,





what a life could be had!

 

 To avert the eyes to
a life worth living,
a praise beyond worthiness of giving,
the prayer worth whispering in perfect awe,
to intimately know love, and to be made extraordinarily small.

Lifted to Jesus Christ. Welcome Home.