Thursday, November 14, 2013

Praise like Breathing

Few things delight me more,
few things send more sparkling thrills through my spirit as if it were suddenly carbonated with bubbly joy,
few things warmly whisper home in such a satisfying splendor, or are milky smooth like chocolate melting into the hungry heart,

than going on a walk with God.

This grace, of walking to class, to the store--anywhere--and talking to the Mightiest, the Strongest, Love Himself, the Creator and Love of my Life, is the honeyed part of my day that I crave.

And here's the treasure I found in it today: the wind.

Call me silly, or a naive, overly imaginative little girl living in a 20-year-old woman's body, but it seems like whenever I pour out my thanks and praise in this time of prayer, the wind picks up.

The wind picks up and gently plays with my hair, reminds me of its power as it whips across my skin, upturns my lips into a smile as I am reminded once more of its presence in a world where it is not clearly seen, oh but it is felt.

I'd like to think my Maker remembers how he crafted my heart, with its poetic longing to make analogies and metaphors and meaning out of every nuance, detail, and subtle moment. I'd like to think the wind is more than some silly coincidence.

After all, when we're in union with Him, are there really any coincidences?

How when I empty myself in praise I am filled with the reminder that He is there even when I do not see Him-- like the wind.

How when I empty myself in praises I know Him more, sense Him more, feel Him more and there in His presence I see more of His glory and can't help but smile-- like when that good ole wind picks up my hair and turns up the lips into a secret grin.

How when I empty myself in praises I know His power, His ability to make things happen, to move, to direct a symphony of events that seem unrelated but compose a masterpiece of His glory, and all I have to be do is be still and feel this fact on my heart-- like the powerful gust picking up the leaves, wiping its brisk impression across my face and the lessons from God are etched on my heart in the process.

I wrote just twenty-four hours ago about this praise, this thanks.

And today I say again: He.   is.   gracious.

Gracious in that we pour out praises, and that glorious God whom I love, He grants us the priveledge of knowing Him more, seeing Him work, communing with Him, letting Him mold our hearts and open our eyes and be filled.

Praise Him like breathing, after all, it's the gift in this gift of life:
To praise and know the Savior, to be humbled to an instrument of His magnificent glory and praises.

No comments:

Post a Comment