weekends are for awake my soul

‘So that’s my answer to time.

Time is a relentless river. It rages on, a respecter of no one. And this, this is the only way to slow time: When I fully enter time’s swift current, enter into the current moment with the weight of all my attention, I slow the torrent with the weight of me all here. I can slow the torrent by being all here. I only live the full life when I live fully in the moment.

And when I’m always looking for the next glimpse of glory, I slow and enter. And time slows. Weigh down this moment in time with attention full, and the whole of time’s river slows, slows, slows.

The bubble in my hand quavers, a rainbow at fringes.

Shalom & bubbles

And blind eyes see: It’s this sleuthing for the glory that slows a life gloriously. It’s plain, bubble straight through: Giving thanks for one thousand things is ultimately an invitation to slow time down with weight of full attention. In this space of time and sphere, I am attentive, aware, accepting the whole of the moment, weighing it down with me all here.

I tilt my hand more to the light and the wave frequencies reinforce on bubble’s dome and color bands deepen, fire-blue swirling flame into lurid scarlet. A kaleidoscope planet. Full attention fills the empty ache.

This. Is this eucharisteo the way to that elusive fullest life, the one that lives in the moment?

What my sister urges when I get angsty and knotted about tomorrow, when I sorrow for what is gone, her words always tugging me to stay right here—“Wherever you are, be all there.”

I have lived the runner, panting ahead in worry, pounding back in regrets, terrified to live in the present, because here-time asks me to the hardest of all: just open wide and receive.

Light on soap film, its energy traveling, reflection, refraction on a wall a few millionths of an inch thick. Light waves permeate and collide, crest to crest and crest to trough. Yellow marbleizes into indigo dark. I do see this. I hold it. in my hand.

This is where God is.

In the present. I AM—His very name. I want to take shoes off. I AM, so full of the weight of the present, that time’s river slows to a still … and God Himself is timeless. The bubble trembles slight. Or is it my hand? It’s not the gifts that fulfill, but the holiness of the space. The God in it.

Far curvature of the bubble eddies, violet sliding down. This is supreme gift, time, God Himself framed in moment. I hardly breathe … and time is only of the essence, because time is the essence of God, I AM. This I need to consecrate: time.

I may never wear shoes again.

The bubble arches into the dome of a cathedral. There.

What I am to do?


 
Make every moment a cathedral giving glory … I am Jacob and the Lord is in this place and I was not aware of it (Genesis 28:16).
 
And it is eucharisteo, thanksgiving, curving the moment into a cupola of grace, an architecture of holiness —a place for God.
 
Thanks makes now a sanctuary.

And I take my vows: I will not desecrate this moment with ignorant hurry or sordid ingratitude.

I will be Jacob, and I will name this moment the “house of God” (Genesis 28:19).

 

 

~ excerpted from One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are

 

Two believers in Christ slowing down to give God alone all glory (one of them feeling awkward & ridiculous & laughing crazy nervous, but praying God can still use this bit of nervous mess anyways? To awake souls to the beauty of Christ and to turn weary hearts to Him alone…)

From Shaun Groves’ album Third World Symphony ….

Awake My Soul (With Ann Voskamp) from Shaun Groves on Vimeo To view video click here. Consider closing the blog music player right under the header/top navigation bar? Click on the black arrow. Thank you for grace.

Third World Symphony is playing here right now…

Whatever you are facing this weekend, whatever pain, whatever joy,

may all your wanderings this weekend, kindest friends,

awake your soul

to the holy cathedral of here

and the infinite worth of

Christ

right in this moment.

::
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All is grace
because of Christ alone,

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