A Bit of Rest

Comfy clothes. Hot coffee with a small mound of chocolate chips to nibble on the side. The snow falls gently and silently outside my window. My sweet little ones with their bed head hair play a game on the computer in the other room. The crochet hook waits patiently for me. For now though, I'm content to just sip my coffee and appreciate the large flakes drifting from heaven. I just recently got out of bed, but am feeling like a nap already.

I'm thankful for rest today.

I'm thankful for a chat with my Dad - his words ring in my ears.

I'm thankful that I seem to have cried myself out of tears yesterday.

I'm thankful for my husband's safe return.

I'm thankful to not have anywhere to be, anything to do.

An unexpected visit from a friend yesterday...the unexplainable joy radiating from her in this time of sorrow makes me feel like a little bit of Jesus walked in the front door. I'm thankful for her.

Thankful for this Jesus...who I thought I knew. I'm seeing now that his glory...oh, his glory...it's unknowable this side of heaven. My God...he is mysterious and grand and so much bigger than my logic and reasoning and ability to contain it even when he does show me his grandness.

What sort of god could be fully understood and contained by little old me, after all? Not my God. Not even close!

I'm thankful that he's bigger than I can know.

Not without design does God write the music of our lives. Be it ours to learn the tune, and not be dismayed at the "rests." They are not to be slurred over, not to be omitted, not to destroy the melody, not to change the keynote. If we look up, God Himself will beat the time for us. With the eye on Him, we shall strike the next note full and clear.

(Streams in the Desert, L.B. Cowman)