without ink

the other day i had a ‘whoa’ moment. i sat eight stories up in a doctor’s office waiting for the physician to consult with me, when i decided to take advantage of the eagle eye view. the sky was clear, the sun was shining, and the world was in action. my mom used to say things like, “you’re too big for your britches”…and man, did she hit the nail on the head with that colloquialism. most of the time i think that i am nothing less than hot stuff. it’s when i ascend in an airplane, or in this case, an elevator, that my size and relative importance again become quickly realized. people become specks, cars diminish to children’s play toys, and what i thought before to be a sprawling neighborhood is reduced to geometric shapes and patterns. as i see the outline of my apartment, my ego deflates. i am so stinking small.

taken aback by the magnitude of the world, i am most amazed by this: the magnitude of the one who rules over it all juxtaposed with the intimacy and fellowship the same one desires from the very things he created. a man walks down the street, the very hairs on his head numbered. traffic, a continuous flow…each turn of the wheels accounted for. my bedroom window…every tear i have shed, not gone unnoticed. the imbibition of god’s vastness is literally too much for me and i have to pull myself away from the window to accomodate my reeling mind as i sit down. if moments like these are not cause for praise, i am not sure what would summon emotions of wonder and amazement…and gratitude. the goodness of the god who paints the sunrise and calms the storm is the same nature that descends to our level and longs to know us, to walk with us, and to love us.

tonite as i am unwinding from a long week, my tired eyes meet his for a brief moment, and i am seized by his grace. caught up in affection that will not let me wriggle from the strong arms that hold me, my efforts of trying to escape desist. in his warm embrace, i rest. by his breath, i live. for his glory, i write.