The petitions pile up, a never-ending stack of requests it seems. Most feel forgotten, or at least answered through the circumstances that inevitably unfolded in time, leaving us to wade into the muddy water that keeps pressing us forward. Control has revealed itself as an illusion, something I have to learn over and over again.
I have let things smaller than these become what I worship, but that doesn’t make it any easier. As I made things that are temporal become the answer to whether or not life is good, I have missed the ultimate good, failing in preaching to myself the better and best Word.
He has provided, even if it feels like it is most certainly not enough. It is all there. Let me rest in this daily bread, the chalky manna, even as I shake my fist for meat, for something different, for a different tasting miracle.
Let me bask in the miracle that is today, even as it pours forth its broken, dark, unfinished parts, for even in the brief moment I refrain from squeezing my eyes shut, the Light has shown me that it is finished.