He says yes.
Even though I failed to get up early enough for a walk this morning, there is still grace.
Outside the kitchen window, green branches tossing in early sunshine lure me like a magnet. He agrees to flip French toast so I can slip out for ten minutes. Grace.
I pull on jeans, zip my red fleece, shove my feet into tennis shoes, grab a cap. Then, I’m out in spring goodness, breeze blustering my face, and I feel only slightly guilty as I crack the gate and escape into opaque, white light.
I walk my normal route: left out the gate, across the little bridge, up the rise to the top of the ridge, and along the high bank of the “river” (which is really only a glorified irrigation canal). Usually I walk along the ridge as far as the big bridge a quarter-mile down, but today I’m only going halfway before I’ll need to turn back to French toast and the baby’s morning feed...
It’s been a week or so since I’ve walked this route, and every day the sun has been getting up earlier, so this is the first morning I’m walking in full blaze. As I crest the ridge and turn to head downstream, I stop in my tracks. My eyes are almost blinded by winking, blinking diamonds.
Everywhere, bits of broken glass bounce the light into glorious, glinting fragments.
You see, this mound where I walk actually doubles as the town dump. Broken bottles, dirty diapers, old car tires, and coils of rusted wire litter my route, and I take this path only because I’m sure of meeting no people at almost any hour of the day. I walk here to be higher up - the raised riverbank offers a view of the mountains - and alone with my thoughts.
And today there are diamonds.
Winking, blinking diamond glory, all those bits of broken glass reflecting a paean of praise to the sun. Brilliance from brokenness.
My eyes are full of blinding light. I grin as I raise one hand to shade them.
In just five quick morning minutes, I’ve found glory.
I walk along the path into the sun a couple minutes longer (stretching my window of breakfast-grace) and as I turn my back on the sun to walk back towards our gate, the sparkling view dulls.
But my eyes are still dancing with specks of glittering light, and I’m still smiling as I turn my face into the breeze and thank Him for shining glory amidst all this brokenness.
Today I'm thankful for:
a husband who makes delicious French toast.
ten minutes all to myself.
sunlight tossing in green branches.
the way God can make beauty out of anything,