I know I'm daft when it comes to understanding the love of my Maker. I know I'm basically blind and deaf when it comes to picking up on the graces He drops all around me every day... but I'm practicing. I wanna develop a sonar to detect these things. I wanna pick up on the smallest miracles and the most seemingly insignificant footprints of the King. That's my mission.
I've set out to capture the 'mundane' miracles. I've committed to recognizing and recording the surprise God-encounters and Heaven's most random blessings. I decided to write down the unplanned occurrences that stand out... and that was one month ago.
How much am I missing? How often am I confronted by God's graces that I simply write-off as 'the usual'?
Well, I finally found one.
It hit me yesterday as I trudged back to the dorms from dance. I dance everyday. For hours. Living at school means my meals are provided for me... but only at strict hours every day. For a girl who's used to dancing until 9pm and then eating supper until 10pm every night, this means I miss a lot of meals.
It's not healthy, and it's not preferable. I've gotten the lectures from friends and family, and I've lectured myself on many occasions. The only thing is, it's all I can do. Balancing schoolwork, homework, extra-curricular clubs and activities, my job, dance, and teaching leaves no time for cooking. Toast is an essential for me- it's my gourmet dinner most evenings. I guess it's just how I prefer my daily bread- toasted.
But on Tuesdays, something special happens. On Tuesdays, God gives me my daily bread, but it's not toasted. In fact, it's different every week. I never expect it, but it is always provided.
Every Tuesday, my dance mate comes up to me with an apple, a granola bar, a salad, a cookie, a muffin, or some other snack. We've danced together for six years, now. She drives 45 minutes to get to class. She loves to perform. She loves to smile. And I don't know if she knows, but when I look at her, all I can see is a picture of what the love of Christ should look like in everyday life.
She knows that I dance for four hours straight every Tuesday. She knows I miss supper regularly and end up under-eating in order to focus on school. Being the task-oriented, servant-hearted individual that she is, she never fails to bring me sustenance.
Every time I try to convince her not to bother with making me a sandwich, she replies with, "You need food." It's simple. She sees the need, and she addresses it. She never tells me she's coming with food, so I'm pleasantly surprised every single time. She's not looking for credit, appreciation, or acknowledgment. The fact that I'm writing this down would have her humble soul embarassed nearly beyond repair. Her compassion is convicting. I hope the world has more people just like her, because she's exactly what we need. In this time where nothing is sound and nobody can take their eyes away from the scrambled "big picture," we need souls like her. We need souls like her to bring us back down to earth, calm us down, and feed us a cookie.
And as I walked home, munching on one of her delicious homemade cookies, I suddenly recognized my first mundane miracle. I had to stop for a second and stare at this half-eaten goodie in my hand before grinning like an idiot, and thanking God.
I don't know what I was expecting when I decided to start my search for these God encounters, but if they are all gonna be like this one, I'm stoked. God cares about the wars and crises this world is facing, but He also cares when His children miss a meal now and then.
His love for me is sometimes sloppy, wet, and unmistakable. Other times, it's sneaky, stealthy and comes straight outta left-field. It sneaks up from behind and it takes me a couple seconds to realize what He's done.
Yep, I finally found one. Sure, He's been blessing me in this way since September and it only took me five months to recognize it... but I finally found it. This is my manna from Heaven. This is my detour from the routine. From the predictable. From the anticipated.
And into left-field.