His duvet wrinkles from sweat the night before. I pull it up and brush my hand underneath in the empty place to feel the warmth that lingers. The breath of God in the absence of the body, it calls me to worship. I want to kneel down and lean over the bed rail right there in thanks.
Don’t let me take it for granted Lord, the way a heart beats healthy and strong.
It seems I have more questions than answers on most days lately. The way locusts are leaderless insects, yet they strip the field like an army regiment; lizards are easy enough to catch, but they sneak past vigilant palace guards. (Proverbs 30-27-28)
I sit on the porch of small change, offering consolation to a friend suffering. I listen to her tiredness, and see it there, shouting for attention. The way the light shows up in my lowliness.
I’m holding phone in one hand, camera in the other trying to catch the light and keep it all in focus. My mind, my heart, my ability to see and hear stretching out in tandem.
And I think most of life’s questions wave clothes pinned on the line unanswered, like the mystery of the locust and lizard. Because silence in my need to know outcome reminds me that joy hangs in the wait of trust and eludes me in the quest for answers.
There is something beautiful in what I can’t see through.
Linking with the Five Minute Friday community with the one word prompt: Focus.