Morning Grace

father holding child

Sigh.
Good morning, God.
Sigh.

Too long away,
Too long distracted,
Too little umph.

I come to crawl into your lap.
I come to snuggle against your chest
and let you lean your chin upon my head.
I come to rest my soul in you.

Rest from what?
Not from mighty labors or grand deeds
But from the sheer weariness of absence
From aimless wandering
And silly distractions.

Not worthy of rest
But then, it is not about worthy.
It is because I trust your love.
I trust your love.

And that alone revives my soul.
I look up into your eyes.
I feel the fold of your embrace.
I feel your lips upon my head
And my heart begins to beat again

It is in this small hollow of grace
That I find my manna,
Just enough for today,
And I am grateful.

Fill my soul with your grace
That I might spill it out upon my day
Not fearful of wasting it
Nor stingy with its abundance.
It is not mine to withhold.

Your grace, to grace my day
For this I say thanks
And cuddle in closer
For just a moment.

Then, like a small child
I uncurl from your lap
And with one more smile between us
I run out into my day.

2 6 15

 [photo ‘Kris and Sierra, Sitting On a Tree’ by kris krüg per cc 2.0]

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