If you’re a mom, and you don’t drink coffee, you’re kind of like a superhero to me. I could give it up if I had to, and I have for periods of time, but I actually believe that on many days, my cup of coffee in the morning is a pure vessel of God’s grace. And just like when the cute guy was the reason you went to Young Life club when you were 15, or the free breakfast was the thing that got you out of bed to go to the church where you found a family, God beckons me into his presence…sometimes with the smell of coffee. And I feel fine about that. He is gracious with me and my weary body.
He greets me with the warmth of those first sips, with the freedom of new mercies, with the safety of his delight.
The truth is that the shape of God’s pursuit of my heart is ever changing, deeply personal, brilliantly transfiguring. His invitation to “Come” takes all kinds of strange forms in these days with little ones. As I’m summoned to the restroom by a tiny voice, for some undignified duty, I hear God beckoning me to lay my life down to find it. As I’m called to the kitchen sink by the towering mound of dishes, or to the dining room table by the endless piles of clean laundry to fold, I hear God beckoning me to do everything unto him, to find purpose in the secret romance between us. As joyful pregnancies left uninvited marks on my body, I’ve heard God beckoning me into the freedom of my image-bearing identity as a co-creator of life. As I’m faced with my weakness all day long, I’m invited in, to walk in Christ’s strength alone. As I’m drawn to the nursery by the midnight cries, I am beckoned to a God who sees me – who renews my strength, even when sleep cannot. As I’m charmed to the play room by my children’s giggles, I feel God’s joy over me drawing me in for a Fatherly kiss on the forehead. I’m invited by the maddening slow of toddlers into the unhurried wonder of the Spirit. In the million questions that could never quench my children’s endless curiosity, I am beckoned to enter into a sweet humility and thirst for understanding before my God.
We are ever and always beckoned to see God’s relentless pursuit of our hearts – in the moments that can’t be rushed, in the places where no one else sees, from the underbelly of our shame, by the captivating faces of our children, by all of creation…
Tune in today, Sister. God is coming for you.
“You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.”