Reflections at the end of the day on faith, tea, and love.

Reflections at the end of the day on faith, tea, and love.

It’s been a good day. The older children played for hours in the paddling pool this evening. The younger kids played ball together and ate well today. I cooked bacon and soup for a household on the mend from headcolds. My oldest and I read together for a good chunk of time during the babies’ naps. We are gearing up for later this summer when we get to make our homeschool official on his seventh birthday.

It always takes me around four months to get back on my feet after a new baby. I like to turtle up with my infants and tuck in the edges around my little family. We do a few things socially, but I don’t feel up for much until after the four month mark. Something happens then – regular naps? Eating? I’m not sure what, but I start to get my energy back. Which is good, because, as I mentioned, we’re gearing up for official homeschool.

I’m also gearing up for the release of my next writing guidebook, How to Tell Bedtime Stories. And after that, the next book in my Faith, Tea, Love series. And after that, a wonderfully exciting project I’m working on with two brilliant friends. And after that, the next book in the Jeff and Maddy Salvation Series. And after that, another fun paranormal Christian novel.

Tonight, I’m watching the votive candle burned down to its end. It’s so dim that I have to strain my eyes to see Jesus across the table. But tomorrow I’ll light a new candle, and the beauty of holiness will fill the darkness again when I sit down with my tea.

I know what it’s like to thirst for beauty. I know what it’s like to starve for the sacred. I know what it’s like to crave redemption and a sense of belonging. I know how it feels to be broken. That’s why I keep writing, even though there is no genre for some of my books yet. There may not be a genre, but there are other broken people who can be healed by getting in touch with beauty, sacredness, joy. There are other people seeking God. And even though I’m broken and thirsty and hungry, I have met the Holy One. I don’t mean that I was in a pretty little doll case and God smoothed the sateen overcoat and politely patted my cheek, either. I was in hell, and God walked through it with me and brought me out.

When I have a list of things to do so long that I have to skip bedtime story (it wasn’t my turn tonight, but still) in order to write about bedtime stories, I remember this. God who made us has walked right into our depths to meet us. The Bridegroom who bursts forth like the sun is bursting from the tomb. God bestows life on the dead. God draws us to Him by our joys and desires. That’s my joy tonight, a joy that does not die with the flame that’s lowering or grow cold with the tea I’m neglecting. My joy is that God has sought me out and called me and made me alive.

Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you!  You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you.  In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created.  You were with me, but I was not with you.  Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would not have been at all.  You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness.  You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness.  You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you.  I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more.  You touched me, and I burned for your peace. ~Augustine, Confessions 10.27