I woke up this morning full of a quiet joy.
Through the doors, I could see the band of gold around the horizon; it glowed between the white blinds.
When I opened the doors, it was as though I opened my heart to Him, and Jesus took me in His loving arms and I worshiped and adored Him.
The air was all clear and crisp, but not cold and the pool was a deep, still blue. Behind me, in the warm bedroom, Keith was all bundled up in the bedding.
My little calendar joyful proclaims:
"Praise Him; sun and moon!
Praise Him, all you twinkling stars!
Praise Him, skies above!"
Yesterday, Keith and I spent almost the entire day outside, doing yard work and then grilling steaks for dinner. I spent the whole afternoon digging up the little flower bed around the our mailbox.
Knowing that we're going to be here for two more years has changed a lot of my perspective and now I want to invest some in the landscape. I often think of the future now, and how we may be bringing our children home to this house.
The ground in the flower bed was matted with heavy growth and roots, but I took the hoe and chopped it up into chunks, shook the dirt free of the roots, and tossed the weeds aside.
I pulled up the bricks that had edged it and cleared them of dead weeds. Then I stirred up all the soil, and put the bricks back in.
I still have dirt under my fingernails, but it looks so much better now. It's all ready for some colorful annuals, when ever the right time happens to be to plant in Georgia. I have to look that up.
In the evening, I was reading The Secret Ways, by Alistair MacLean- which is an ancient, battered and beloved book of mine- and I felt Jesus draw near to me.
It's as though He settles comfortably in with me, not come to talk or to teach, but just to be near, just because He loves His children and loves to be near them.
I love this- I love for Him to come, just to spend time with me, because He loves me and I am His.
My heart can instinctively and joyfully yield to Him, because Jesus is the God of my salvation, and He took away all my shame and fear. There is nothing in life better than Him, and I have no other god beside Him.
I think that loving Him is worshiping Him, and requiring Him as one's most basic necessity is to worship Him.
There is no earning of Him, no winning Him- Jesus is a gift. He comes freely, of His own will, and at the same time, He is always there.
I think it is impossible to prepare for Him to come, as though to clean house. He knows the house is dirty; He's all through it. He loves us anyway.
Jesus loves us just as we are. He wishes us to yield everything to Him, the broken, the dirty, the exhausted, the unfinished, the impossible.
He loves our company. He loves to be around us, each of us, whatever we are doing, He cares about it.
He is interested even in what I cook for dinner. That's not to say that Jesus has a right thing or a wrong thing for me to cook; it's just that He cares.
Why would He care about such a thing? I guess that, if He already has numbered the hairs on our head, it wouldn't be too much of a stress for Him to be interested in the day's menu.
All last night, I dreamed of children. I dreamed that I was working at a day care center with my beloved mentor Annie of Happy Valley, the day school where I worked when I was much younger.
In my dream, we were hosting a parent night, along with the children, so the entire building was full of people and companionship and warmth and the excitement and voices of scores of small children.
My love and ability flowed out of me in such an easy and natural way. Even my discipline was natural and loving and without angst.
The whole dream was full of joy- the joy of children and their funny and unique ways, the joy of easy companionship with my mentor and the joy of doing something that was challenging, creative and rewarding.
When I woke, the dream lingered with me. I leaned up against the warmth of Keith and thought of the upcoming adoption.
Whenever I think of adoption, I see a little girl.
I have no idea if we'll be matched with a little girl or not- whatever Jesus has planned is fine with me, but for some reason, I always see a little girl.
My thoughts wandered into the future and I thought, what happens to her when Keith and I are gone? She won't have any other family. We have to adopt two.
Unless, I thought to myself, she has her own family- gets married and has children of her own.
But what if, I thought to myself, she doesn't have her own family? What if she remains single? She'll be all alone in the world.
She will always have Me, Jesus said, in His so familiar and dear voice.
"Jesus!" I said, joyfully. His voice changed my entire perspective. "Of course she will! She has You even now, whoever she is. She always will."
Isn't this so kind of Him? He quieted even my fear about my imaginary children with an eternal truth.
Or maybe Jesus is starting to prepare my heart with this lovely truth far ahead of time, knowing I'll need to hear it and rely on it many times in the coming years.