This is gonna be a good year because ...

I have a grandaughter (-sigh-)

Holding that sweet little one is like a spa day 
                            beach day
                                    vacation day
                   coffee and cake day all rolled in to one. 

She is sweet, delicious, soft, fragile, and precious! 
Her little knees…
    ooohhh how I love baby’s little knees 
                             and their little “laps” 
Have you ever just looked at a little one's lap? Priceless!

When she stretches, 
               arching backwards with her hands clenched tight and her face all smooshed 
I just want to kiss her face and hold her tight and drink her up.
It’s like a vitamin for the soul, 
                 the best blood pressure medicine you could ever be prescribed. 
Better than a puppy, 
   or a kitten,
   or a walk on the beach when the sun is setting and the temperature is perfect. 
Better than a ride on a motorcycle through winding country roads. 
Better than coffee, hot and steamy and perfectly brewed with freshly roasted beans. 
Better than a huge slice of chocolate cake, home-made, butter cream frosting, most and chocolatey. 
Better than the first slice of coffee bread, warm out of the oven with butter on top. 

This is gonna be a good year!!

Thirsty

I’m so hungry ... so thirsty

This can’t be, is not enough 

                   what I can see with my eyes, 

                   hear with my ears and feel and touch. 

I need so much more, I crave what’s real. 

Like breathing in oxygen, 

    like a cold drink of water on a hot dry day,

         like the first bite of food after a long fast. 

I am not enough

What I think, what I know, what I feel I can do on my own. 

It fails, over and over again

I am not enough.

I run, collapsing, at Your feet

Here I lay, nothing left to give ... fully exposed, vulnerable, surrendered

You are everything, You are all that matters, You are in charge, in control. 

You are my Oxygen, my Water, my Bread. 

You are my Life, my Center, 

      my Everything

I lay here, not moving. 

Slowing my breath, covering my head, laying as a child, a newborn, completely vulnerable to Who You are, what You are capable of doing. Complete trust. This is where I belong, in your Presence, that Holy Place, the Holiest of all that is Holy. My mind tries to visualize, tries to imagine it ... I think I can almost grasp it, catch a glimpse of You.

Oh, to see You, the Creator,

          the Provider, the Judge, the Anointed One,

                my Father, my Lover, my Friend. 

You alone speak, and all of creation pauses, holds it’s collective breath for further instruction, 

              for the chance to hear your Voice. 

The Voice that spoke and mountains burst forth out of nothingness, 

         the One who spoke and teeming waters were formed into seas. 

The Voice who does speak, brings forth life out of a womb, 

          the One who does speak and directs the angel soldiers to fight, protect and defeat the accuser.

You alone control, judge, guide, direct, allow, give, hold, comfort, create, heal, restore, Love! 

You are Love, 

     not mushy, fleeting weak affection, 

but profound, cemented, heart-reaching, heart-changing, centering kind of Love. 

Love that surrenders everything when nothing is deserving.

Love that allows pain in order to bring wholeness. 

Love that breaks, in order to mold. 

Love that hears every voice, every heart’s cry that is in tune with it’s Creator.

I quietly, completely-broken, fully-surrendered, lay at your feet, 

       before your throne, in the midst of your majesty