We spent the fifth month dreaming, as dreamers do. We walked sidewalks pushing along wheels of babies. We sipped triple hopped beverages and spoke of our spoils. The good spoils, the ones we gush about till our cheeks turn red with giddiness. We looked toward the sky, open, wide, and knowing it was within our reach. We questioned convicted hearts, let things go that cause spoil, the bad kind that make a tender heart pull back. We indulged in each other, our love. We waited. We waited for answers, direction, phone calls, prayers to be answered. We felt upon us, love that was lavished, honey, rich, sweet, the kind that leaves you buzzing. We flew high in the sky while we wore out our welcome in compacted areas, smashed peanuts underfoot. We dreamed, as dreamers do. We jumped, we trusted, we received. Grace after grace after glorious grace. We held tight to arms that naturally long to flail in brokenness, we held clenched fists back, and white knuckled our way to freedom – our breath so fresh. We watched as He worked, He answered, He blessed. We spent our fifth month, together, dreaming, as dreamers do.
This month, I felt a strong urge to jump in, deep to the promises God puts over our lives. To go in, with my hands open to the sky, waiting for the blessing to come. I boldly, BOLDLY humbly, accept in fullness His blessing, mercy, grace. There is something about confidently claiming a truth, about embracing a peace of provision and protection. Our calm, our guidance, our divine grace and sacrament.