I sit here on my outdated denim loveseat, wrapped up in my newly knit prayer shawl, and enjoy the warmth of the sunshine that is shining through my dirty window that I had tied the curtain back with a piece of ribbon. I hear the murmur of water boiling on my antique stove in the kitchen as the dryer spins and buttons clank in the basement.
I sit here to spend time with Jesus and to journal. As I was read the last verse in my Jesus Calling devotional for the day, a thought skittered across my mind.
“Live by faith, not by sight.”
Perhaps I cannot touch God physically with my hand, still I can turn my gaze toward him as I do the sun that is lighting up my journal as I write. Maybe I can’t touch him, but that doesn’t make him any less real than the humidity I am putting into the air as my stove boils a pot of water. I can’t see it, but I can feel it.
This Advent I am trying to take time to be more still. Less rushed. Fewer sentences, more meaning.
As I wrap up in my shawl and remember that God is closer to me than even that is, I turn my gaze back to the window and follow the dazzling light to the words written in my journal.
“Help me keep my gaze on you – although you cannot be seen, I can still look to you.”