Most of the time I see Your goodness in our ordinary moments: in impromptu kisses from our toddler; the smell of the woods; in the coo’s of baby E; the feeling of Kyle’s hand in mine; in the sunsets and stars and canopies of trees; in my family gathered around our table; in the phrase, ‘Mommy, will you play with me?’
Sometimes I see Your goodness in those moments that seem so important, they feel forever burned into my mind’s iris: saying our vows; hovering over the stick, breathless and giggling over two lines; the first time holding our babies; sitting with patients and loved ones beside hospital beds; knowing your peace in the swell of grief.
And then there’s days like today when words just aren’t enough.
I can dance and sing and hope and praise because You were bigger than the grave; because You loved us THAT much; because of Your fierce, unconditional love for us, I can call myself Your daughter…and you are good and sovereign and mighty and close.
I know what I am. I know what I deserve. I know that even on my best day, I am sinful and selfish and so utterly unworthy of You. But because of Your Goodness; Your mercy; and the sweet grace and power of Redemption,
you didn’t just die that day the earth groaned and went dark.
Thank you, Jesus.