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{ Behold He Comes }

It was evening and I was wearing down. Finishing up some work, the babies all asleep in their beds, husband away for the night playing softball. I was in get-stuff-done mode and it felt good. Until I felt tired. I decided to stretch my legs, and by that I mean I decided to hop on Facebook and give my brain a timeout.

I was met immediately with post after post of a gorgeous double-rainbow that had visited so many of my friends. I’m kind of a sunset/sunrise chaser. My husband teases me a bit about it. Most nights I’m standing at the front door or I creep out on the damp patio in my barefeet, iPhone in hand, ready to snap the next greatest sky art. He’ll tease me as I toddle almost childlike back into the house, padding my way back to the couch in my comfy clothes.

“Did the sun set again tonight?”

He thinks he’s hilarious.

So, I see these gorgeous pictures and my eyes flit to the front windows, the side windows. What did I miss? When did I miss it? Would I have even been able to see it out here anyway? I had noticed the sky was golden and glorious, but I hadn’t gotten up to wander around. I mean, I was trying to be serious for two seconds and do some serious work. And by serious work, I mean partying on social media with my people. It’s what thirty-something moms do now for fun at 9 p.m. Don’t judge me. It could be meth.

I hustle up and out of my house and I’m full of trust in my heart. He would not leave me out. He would not forsake me. You know how I know? Because I believe Him when He said that we will find Him when we go looking for Him. And I’m not looking for a double-rainbow or a pink sky or for anything other-worldly except for Him. That’s really what I’m out to capture. 

And I know my gift may look different than what a handful of my peeps spied in Auburn, Indiana on a Tuesday evening - but I know He won’t leave me standing out on the cool pavement, barefoot while country traffic (and by country traffic I mean Amish) trolls by, probably scandalized into next week by my Star Wars pajama pants (hey, my boys think I’m epic, hush!) and my, “My favorite bars are chocolate” tank. 

I swear, you guys. I can be classy. I really, really can!

And I go looking. And He’s not just found, He’s intentionally waiting to be found. Not by all my friends in town with their double-rainbow Instagramed sky-magic. No. He knows I will come paddling around to find Him. Because He knows me. Loves me. Not just as a creator, someone who pulled me and stretched me and gave me really wonky toes and thick hair and such a good, good life... but as a friend. A deep hearted, deeply rooted, friend. Who knows all my good jokes and my bad stories and adores me. Who knows the things I am too scared to say out loud that I hope for or dream about. The one who knows prayers I’ve prayed and prayers I’ve begged and prayers I couldn’t find words for. The one who has held me as I’ve fought, waited as I ran, sat next to me with tears drowning His eyes because of my shattered, destroyed, devastated human, baby girl heart. 

He’s had arms wide open when I felt abandoned and arms wide open when it’s all too horrible to bear, arms wide open when I’m exhausted and, dare I say, mean.

When I feel like I’m missing out - or that I’ve lost my talents or chose a wrong path or missed out on some great calling - I mean, do other people think about that stuff, cause I sure do. And I watch and read and link arms with those going through momentous highs and mountain top success stories... and I’m standing on my front porch wearing pants with a wookie on one leg and a droid on the other. 

Depending on your outlook, that can leave you feeling all shades of left out.

But when you go looking, knowing you’re already found? That there is something to be discovered? Even if it is “only” a sunset on a Tuesday night? If I’m chasing after a glimpse of the One who adores me more than anything, if I’m just trying to catch His eye or evidence that He was RIGHT THERE, right near me, right outside that red front door, waiting for me. Then, I’m going to go. I can look the fool over and over. That’s okay. And I can miss a sunset or a rainbow or a glowing sunrise. That’s okay, too. You can’t iPhoto them all, I suppose.

But if my heart is beating with expectation and wonder and I want to hurry to go on an adventure, even if it’s just outside in the summer night - why wouldn’t I go? If I expect Him to show up and He surely always does - why wouldn’t I go? Why would I wan’t to be amazed, to see evidence of His finger pulling, dragging, expanding all the colors across His very own canvas? I mean, I’ll stop everything and hunt that stuff down.

Him. Hunt Him down. Every time.

I can’t get enough of Him reminding me that I’m not forgotten. I can’t get enough of Him standing still until I find Him right where He has stayed so I could be near Him. Like a good Daddy who pauses and waits for the little legs of his children to catch up.... He holds up for me. Until I get done with my work, or done with my tired, or done with my frustration - He’s there, holding out His hand, kind of like I do with my boys when we cross a parking lot. I don’t even have to look for them, because I know they are coming. I just wait, with my arm out, ready for their little hands to hold tight as we walk on to our next destination. 


And sometimes it’s big, big things and other times it’s love written in the clouds. It’s His whispered presence in a song or in a morning well-spent or in how kissable the cheeks of my babies are. Sometimes it’s the big stuff that we have to hammer out together and sometimes it’s colors way up high and clouds far beyond... to remind me that somewhere out there, He has all the love - all the love - for me.

And He never leaves me out. Never has. Never, ever will.


"If you look for me 
wholeheartedly,
you will find me." 
J e r e m i a h   2 9 : 1 3  






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