Or maybe just slinging that book bag over my shoulder.

Come now and look upon the works of the LORD, what awesome things He has done on earth. Psalm 46:9

And over and over again, Ann Voskamp talks about eucharisteo before the miracle. And today for some reason folks were looking at a post written long ago from an ocean of pain… a song of praise was in my heart, however, sort of. Mostly I am trying to make it up the next hill with just a trace of praise under my breath.

Holy, holy, holy.

And the next day we rolled our bicycles into Mondoñedo over the muscle-jouncing cobbled stones and saw the mighty power and love of God take hold and heal mightily and angels bumbled out of the side roads and comforted me and Nicole shared a vision of a light tower and crashing waves that pierced the souls of all who were present.

And this is not a make-believe fairy tale we are spinning.

That is the point of all of these monuments, the Joshua stones set by the river. Remember when we saw and held and tasted His goodness? 1000 gifts upon 1000 gifts. And if He showed Himself as powerful love yesterday, as He pressed our daily bread into our outstretched hand, will He not show Himself yet again?

Today my predawn gratitude was for the grace of the glowing eastern horizon, new every morning, His faithfulness.

And the Monday night ladies all told stories as we sat by a crackling fire and sipped our tea. Stories of pain and brokenness and even hopelessness.

What to think when staring circumstance straight into its blood-shot eyes?

We were all gripped last night by the image of when we look back, we see God’s back. In the blackest, God is closest, at work, forging His perfect and right will. Then he will remove His hand. Then we will look.

Then we will look back and see His back.

But belief is not simply mental assent. Even the demons believe. Belief is a verb, something that you do. It is not something conjured up through sheer willpower. Rather is it hiding spies under a pile of straw. Taking that step into that raging river. Leaping off of that storm-tossed boat. Picking up the bed and walking. Obedience.

Faith without works is dead.

And the first act of faith is to give thanks, sight unseen.

Out loud, with words.

How do you count on life when the hopes don’t add up?

The hopes don’t have to add up. The blessings do.

Jesus replied this is the work (service) that God asks of you: that you believe in the One Whom He has sent (that you cleave to, trust, rely on, and have faith in His Messenger) John 6:29 AMP

Voskamp continues: That is my daily work, the work God asks of me? To trust. The work I shirk. To trust in the Son, to trust in the wisdom of this moment, to trust in now. And trust is that: work. The work of trusting love. Intentional and focused.

Eucharisteo always precedes the miracle, child.

Beloved child.