an odd thing has occurred over the past two weeks. during the move and among all these boxes, i packed up parts of myself. i stretched the tape with its loud resistance, not wanting to become a straight line, content to wrap endlessly around itself, i pressed it clear onto that box that contained me and it was hauled up into the moving truck.
“do you walk in here and just think to yourself, i can’t believe god gave me this house?”
i hear her and know that those words and the spontaneous joy they hold is close to me. it’s packed somewhere, packed away tight – i just can’t remember which box i’ve put it in. i didn’t make it a priority to find it first, like ice cream for the freezer, i didn’t put it away where it belongs first thing.
it’s around here somewhere.
god gave us this. and it’s almost too much to accept. like the man in chicago shoveling snow at our first apartment. we made hot cocoa and poured it in a to-go cup. we climbed down three flights and peeked out into a blizzard night.
he wouldn’t take it.
he couldn’t receive it.
he asked if he could pay us for it.
we told him, no – just have it and when he wouldn’t, we climbed back up with it cooling in our hands.
god has given us a good gift at the right time.
“i love it when father gives his children something over the top – it’s so obvious that it’s from him.”
she tells the truth in my new kitchen. truth in the kitchen, may it always be. and it’s me she’s talking about and it’s my father she’s referring to.
maybe i could become a little more like a child?
maybe as we drive away this week to recuperate and time like money on our family, maybe i could be present in the moment to learn from these people who live life like it’s going out of style. the kingdom of god belongs to such as these; the ones covered in mud in the backyard.
i don’t know too many children who have trouble accepting a good gift from their father. and this god who will not give us more than we can handle, neither will he give more than we can thank him for – he’s good. he’s so good to me.