When all said and done, it’s those hours that I cherish. The hours spent in the green Jeep under the gentle watch of the sweeping mountains on either side.
If God is beyond our humanly-defined modes of communication and we each hear from him in different languages, different ways, ways unique and personal to us, we must each have something precious to teach one another about God’s love languages.
We are told that all Creation is groaning. “Groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.” Creation cries out through its slow burning into fullness.
There are seasons when we feel that deep unease which lets us know that we too – we fearfully created beings – are a part of that groaning. I guess in the same way that (so I’ve heard) during childbirth contractions which speak acutely of what is to come ebb and flow, the awareness that we are part of the greater groaning of all Creation comes and goes in waves. Continue reading
under the feathers 