{29} For hot showers on cold days—absolutely delightful.
{30} Thank You, God, for tastes: those preferences which can cause such immediate connections. I love the lively energy of that realizing moment: "Ah, you like _____ too?" What a God, to create a world of so many little things to bind man together.
{31} For critique—the nerve-racking but necessary sharpening of talent—the chance to grow.
{32} Thank You for re-acquainting: those precious chances to meet again with old friends, after the separation of time and years, and see, "Here are the bits of you that are just the same as I have always loved, and here is the rest which is just a bit different. But don't worry; I shall love those too, once I know them, because I love you, and we are all always changing. If you don't see my differences yet, give it a few hours, or minutes. They'll show."
{33} For cold floors, which contrast so wondrously to warm blankets and hot drinks, making them infinitely more pleasant.
{34} Thank God for the pre-sunrise. I laid under the stars this morning and experienced, perhaps for the first time—or maybe simply the first time with eyes truly grateful to see—the change from stars to dawn. That black-blue sky started to fade at the eastern edge, turning a dark, murky violet. My heart constricted in rapture at that which I can only describe as magical, watching the sky's eastern corner fade from violet to lavender, illuminating the fringes of wispy clouds in maroon, pinkish colors that put the ugly, false pinks to shame. And I could not stop watching until the stars had winked out, one by one, swallowed up by the sky's edges as they changed from lavender to the lightest of grey-blues, and from that to an only slightly tinted white.
Thank you, Elyon.
{35} For inspiration. That little muse reaches straight through the slum of day to day, mortal life and stirs the immortal soul, calling with a smile.
"I know you are there. Now, wake up."
No comments:
Post a Comment