Here I sit, under the dim lights of my closest Starbucks, feet propped up in the chair across from me. My pastor husband has sent me away to find Jesus in a cup of coffee and to drink Him in ’til I’ve had my fill.
I may be here 5 years.
I’m in the back corner, with Ann (One Thousand Gifts), a skinny cinnamon dolce latte, and an entire singles bible study. I’m drowning in the noise that makes coffee and steamed milk and singles, singles no more.
It’s in the noise that I hear best.
My soul needs a refresher course in giving thanks, but my eyes won’t stay on the words.
I’m drawn to the haze of lighting in this place.
The way it hovers above but reaches down to wrap in light, all that sits below.
I feel small, curled up in the big corner chair, with my feet uncovered and my pile of mess on the perfect table in front of me.
I smile over my latte and think how good it is to be small sometimes.
Especially when Light hovers above, and reaches down to cover me.
Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. Genesis 1:2 and 3
All is grace.