I know next to nothing. Glaciers move faster than I learn.
Late winter morning light begins to warm and soften the edges of the room. I named my biggest enemy a few days ago as my crawling through Lent began. What I can’t get back. The battle plan is surrender. Unbeknownst to me, this battle is being rendered nanosecond by nanosecond. I had to will my hand to catch up with the calendar this morning.
Familiar refrain spilled into my thinking from down the hallway. First Son voicing the only line he can remember and humming where words fail. And after those five girding words what other words are needed? This is my Father’s World. He sing-hums over and again as he comes into the kitchen because this is how the One who breathed life into me reminds me–in the voice of a child given to me.
And in the voice from the One who was a child given for all:
“Let these children alone. Don’t get between them and me. These children are the kingdom’s pride and joy. Mark this; Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in.” Luke 18:16-17 MSG
God’s kingdom. This is my Father’s World. Simply stated. There it is. Accept in simplicity. Surrender the complications I create. Stop sabotaging the battle plan. Shalom is found in the simple surrendering to a world not mine. Thankfully, a world not mine. “This is my Father’s world, I rest me in the thought…” Rest because He doesn’t.
Innocent anticipation of the wonders of the everyday that appear every day comes as easily as breath for First Son. A Spirit gift is before me– a do-over on my attitude about my calendar turning this morning. My feet find the way to his room and my hands deliver his calendar to the table. Delight and sweetness are the fragrance of his countenance as he sees only the looking forward of faith. The looking back is the stone where I stumble. This is where I gladly drown in grace for the harrowing that happens at the table with a child.
And precisely because I did not want to sing-hum them, the refrain now spills from me.
This is my Father’s world
why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King; let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let the earth be glad!
In the nanoseconds of today I will try to see what First Son sees. He tells me this afternoon that he wants me to take a picture of the sky because he sees God’s two hands in the clouds.
Oh, Jesus, open my eyes. Teach me to see.
My ashes, my earthen soul, be glad!
Knowing next to nothing has never felt so grand.