Dancing in Godlight

The Navigator's home early for the weekend, and I'm trying hard to keep up our early morning opening of a week's worth of bottled up events.  But, the squeals from the other room are drowning my every word.  I am annoyed.  I can never carry on a conversation.

"Bubbles.  Bubbles.  Bubbles. Coming through the window!"

I finally give up when the corner of my eye catches him dancing, with arms wilding waving overhead in that sunbeam, common dust sprinkling divine beauty over the room.  It pours in just like he said, through the small half glass perfect for looking at morning Glory.  That boy is lost in the wonder of the Infinite in the infinitesimal.  And I almost miss it in all my self-important, wild, hand-talking activity. 

I learn this lesson well:  when "patches of Godlight" rain down on you, the only thing left to do is dance. 

In the school of adoration the soul learns why the approach to every other goal had left it restless...In the prayer of adoration we love God for himself, for his very being, for his radiant joy.  ~Douglas Steere, Prayer and Worship

Visit Desiring God for more on focusing on the View.

Windfall

The greatest honor we can give Almighty God is to live gladly because of the knowledge of His love. ~Julian of Norwich

May you throw your hands in the air under the windfall of His love today.

Poopy Diapers and Praise

He is our little August Rush.  Music is everywhere.  The vacuum cleaner.  The blender.  The dog shaking her fur.  The garbage truck outside.  He will run from another room or pause whatever his hands are doing.  Smile.  And dance.   Where we hear only noise and clatter, he hears a song, beauty, cause for dancing.   We can't help but join in.  His delight is contagious.  The common is transformed into beauty.  Our hearing is transformed, able to now enjoy what was once disguised.

The mundane day-to-day moments have a way of repeating themselves.  Dish scrubbing.  Clothes washing.  Meal preparing.  Floor cleaning.   Teeth brushing.  Poopy diaper changing.  Again and again.  They begin to take on the far too familiar tone of a song we would really rather forget.   They run through our minds, our bodies in an annoying self-run repeat cycle. 

We run the risk of getting swept along in the march.  Of becoming robotic as we follow the rhythm.   Unless.  Unless we can feel the beauty of the pattern as a gift, a cause for dancing.   For praising.  All for the love of God the duty becomes a delight.

...[You] shall rejoice in everything [dishes, a broom, poopy diaper] you put your hand to because the LORD your God has blessed you. ~ Deuteronomy 12:7b