Although the doors were locked,
Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.”
She called me like she said she would.
All my life, Grandma, my mother’s mother, has been the one I’ve talked to most. Yesterday we set a phone date on Facebook saying we were GOING to call each other. God only knows how many times we’ve crossed invisible paths on social media and never said a word. We used to talk on the phone once or twice a week in the mornings once the big kids left for school and the little boys were content in their playing. We haven’t had a chance to talk much since moving. Time is moving us along and the tides have turned my attention even more to the generation ahead of me.
Relationships take time. I guess what you’ve got to figure out is who and what you want to have a relationship with, who and what you’re going to give your time and attention to, who and what you’re going to give your heart to. You will know when your heart is not in the right place. I used to lay awake at night plagued with guilt for not spending enough time with the kids. I read too much. I cleaned too much. I drove around from Amish town to Amish town in search of untainted food and a fulfilling life purpose way too much.
Too much. Not enough. More this. Less that. These words haunt me, the words we throw around in desperation trying to describe the nagging sense of imbalance, this chronic pull of a world tipped too far to one side. I’d be a fool to ignore this though. I know the difference. I know the difference between a time ill spent and a job well done. The difference is the peace of the Lord Jesus. The fall of the earth is relieved in the rest of her Maker. You hear the voice of Grandma and you finally realize what it is you’ve been missing.
The intention you feel is the growing weight of glory.