I remember when I first moved to Virginia and said to myself, “I will never tire of seeing these mountains.” Well, it hasn’t even been two years and the view from my bedroom window is something I scarcely notice anymore. The Blue Ridge Mountains have become so familiar that I’ve simply stopped seeing them. Most days, I don’t even open the blinds.
Sadly, they’re not the only thing I take for granted.
I find it interesting that the God who created something as vital as the air I breathe is so easy to overlook. Sometimes I get so caught up in other things that I cease to notice God’s presence. But just like those mountains looming in the distance, God is never far away. All I have to do is open the blinds that darken my heart.
In the midst of the mundane, God is offering us glimpses of the divine. He’s always there, and because of this, we often fail to truly see Him. And then there are days where we cannot help but marvel at the greatness of our God. Today was one of those days for me.
As I’m preparing to leave for India in six short days, I was talking to a coworker about how my brother who lives over there is going to come meet me in Mumbai. Somehow, in the course of our conversation, I mentioned his missionary friend whom my mom has “adopted” as another son. It’s been a of couple years since I’ve started calling Raju my brother, and I remarked how badly I’d like to meet him. Later in the day, Mom called… And as it turns out, both of my brothers will be making the trip down to meet me next week.
Some people would call that coincidence, but me… I looked up and saw the Mountain. This was a God-ordained blessing meant solely to bless my socks off. It was a touch from God that I couldn’t deny. Though some days I leave the blinds shut, today they were thrown wide open. And I basked in the wonder of the sheer awesomeness of my God.
your mother once force-fed down your throat, the situations God allows into our lives are for a purpose; they help us grow.
Ever since I read Shannon Kubiak Primicerio’s The Divine Dance, I’ve been enthralled by a dancing God. It’s the language God and I speak to each other. Still, I’ve always envisioned Jesus as a Carpenter. I think of the way He molds and shapes us into the image He envisioned us to be from the beginning. And I felt as if that image had just been placed in my hands, a permanent reminder of the person God is continually shaping me to be.
A friend of mine recently wrote a blog post about unearthing new ground. Now, maybe it’s partially because I witnessed some of these struggles Mandy wrote of uprooting, but I found myself deeply moved by her post. You can read the whole thing 
It always hits me in the mornings. I cannot even count the number of times my cappuccino has grown cold as my pen dances across the page, or how many times I’ve scrambled to make it to work on time after being held spellbound by a scene that unfolds in my mind.
Beyond Waiting 