Let’s wander along Hickory Lane and Cemetery Road; the sky is a canvas of cloud splendor, and it might take us forever to walk a mile...I keep stopping to look up, to turn fully around and look again, gaping at the shifting magic overhead. The scene changes, reframes, comes into focus, fades, and changes again. I can't seem to find any words but Wow! And thanks!
Your deep, deep love
Washes over me
Your deep, deep love
Fills my every need
How I long to hear Your voice call out my name
It draws me to Your deep, deep love...
(You can learn it and sing along right here!)
I adapt it and sing it again -
"How I love to hear Your voice call out my name,
it draws me to Your deep deep love..."
Bluebird call notes make my heart race; a cardinal sings in the underbrush.
And look! In the thorn thicket, a perky Carolina wren announces himself.
Were the whole realm of nature mine. (Wait...isn’t it all mine for the seeing and hearing and feeling touching and even tasting, because it’s all His and so am I, and it’s all gift?)
That were an offering... (a present, this present moment, my heart clear full, my vision fully clear for this glimpse of enough and glory, mud and clouds)
Far too small – (and yet it’s all I have to offer, my small presence, my small gifts, my small full soul, broken, mended, filling, spilling joy.)
Love so amazing, so divine demands my soul, my life, my all. It’s small, but it’s my all...
and I fling it heavenward like a handful of feathers and of course it comes back all over me,
joyful thanks pouring grace back over me.
I’m walking on a cloud of His enoughness, and it carries me.
Maybe tonight in my dreams, I’ll be flying.