The warm sunshine hits my skin, relaxes my achy body, and soothes sore sinuses.
I lay on the harsh asphalt, mainly because I don’t want to lie in the mud. When I imagine hard enough, I can almost make it feel like the soft sand of the beach, and I forgive the rough surface I nap on. The breeze is the same temperature as the sunshine, or it feels so, at least. Birds are chirping to each other and the sound of traffic a hundred yards away, I can pretty much imagine into being a steady onslaught of ocean waves. I sigh and decide that these ten minutes of peace are perfection-a gift of life from Jesus.
|Connie noticed this squirrel had the same idea-a nap in the sunshine!|
My thoughts turn to images of faces-of the children I held a class with just yesterday. For three hours I prayed and played with all 10 of them, peacekeeping and telling stories of Jesus. Of Jesus…an annoying thought enters my head, very briefly. What if the parents of the Muslim kids complain about my stories? I shoo the lies of the enemy away; it’s too good a moment to let him destroy. And it’s not my problem anyway. If I had dark chocolate to give you, and didn’t, you’d be mad. And since Jesus equals eternal life, if I don’t share Him that’s even worse, I remind myself. Memories of deep questions posed by thoughtful 4 and 5 year olds drive away the clouds. Seeing the Creator open the heart-eyes of adorable children is my favorite thing in the world.
|Signs of spring, of life|
The sun is beating down heavily, and even with my eyes closed it becomes too much to bear. I turn my head, but still it burns through my eyelids. Burns, but strangely I still want more. More warmth, more light, more life. I turn my head back to face it straight on, turning away every now and then to keep from being blinded. I think of how this can relate to facing Truth-it overwhelms you, but yet fully satisfies and keeps you wanting more. It hurts, but it heals, too. It recharges you, and ultimately gives life.