Discovery. . .

I got up this morning with an unusual sense of excitement for the day. There’s nothing special about today (other than the fact that it’s a holiday), but something inside told me that I had something to look forward to.

I got out of bed, did a handful of pushups, brushed my teeth, and grabbed a bowl of cereal before heading into the heat to mow the lawn. The day was loud; kids were running up and down the street or playing in their backyards as parents did yardwork in preparation for the arrival of their barbecue guests.

As I started my lawnmower’s engine I felt my name being whispered in the breeze. Nate, I sensed. There’s something I want you to see.

The vibrating hum of the lawnmower lulled me into a rhythmic daze, but each time I turned I looked up at the nearly cloudless sky, unable to shake the feeling that something was happening to me.

As I rounded another corner it hit me. I came face to face with the Creator of the universe right there in my front yard. It was the last place I expected to have an encounter with God, but there he was, waiting for me to listen.

He reminded me of the cross, of what he did to tell me how much he loved me. He reminded me of all that I have, of what he does everyday to show me how much he continues to love me.

And he reminded me of his overwhelming majesty and power. The sun peaked through the trees, calling my attention to the limitless power of the God I was witnessing. The power to both sit on the throne of the universe and at the same time preside over the tiniest detail of the most insignificant life.

“Through Christ all things hold together. . .”

With all that I’ve been battling internally, I was begging God to comfort me. But he didn’t. Instead he chose to show me who he was, is, and will forever be—the God of all days.

Nate, he said. Each day I’m writing a story. You’re a part of this story. As insignificant as your life is, it’s still crucial to what I’m doing. And while it may be crucial, it’s still only a part. This story isn’t about you. It’s about my Love. It’s about the Christ.

Drenched in sweat and covered in grass clippings I discovered—or perhaps rediscovered—something about God. That he is in everything—every sound, every sight, every smile, every hug, every kiss, every moment—and that this God will never stop relentlessly loving me.

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