They are precious in His sight.

Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” Genesis 28:15

Last night was a celebration of motherhood, tossing nets out to pull in all sorts to gather under the twinkly lights with shared stories, songs by Frank Ross, rhubarb pie and ice cream and lots of bottles of red wine and blue-bottled water. And we tried to pull off Two Truths and a Lie about motherhood, and it didn’t turn out exactly right, but it was still good. And Brandon and I entertained ourselves by talking bike talk and looking over saddlebags and I found the international electrical plug for him. But most of all, we all got to watch a napless and very weary Everette nestle into Heather and be comforted while the songs of the morning still echoed in our collective hearts.

Because the Vineyard service rested on Psalm 131

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
    my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
    too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
    like a weaned child with its mother;
    like a weaned child is my soul within me.

And Chris pointed out that bookended with this All-Powerful God we have an Incarnate God Who Draws Near.

Trust means that you give it up. Hand them over. Let them go. Let them go today. Let them go tomorrow. Let them go on Wednesday.

And tonight the Monday Night Ladies are reading more of Brother Lawrence, grappling with what does it mean to “live in the presence of God.” And we are going to talk about when Brother Lawrence quotes a friend who says that “God’s got an endless bank account of grace, and we settle for pocket-change...” What do you think his friend meant by that statement? And the next question on our discussion list is what would it mean to “open our eyes to God’s grace”?

And for some reason, but of course, God is weaving together this day for me, His weaned child, Andres from El Camino on the other side of the world sent me a Facebook link this morning, a piercing version of “Open the Eyes of my Heart, Lord,” sung by a blind autistic boy. And I wept. And may that be the thread that holds this day in His hand.

To see You high and lifted up

Shining in the light of Your glory

Pour out Your power and love

As we sing holy, holy, holy.

And last night I retold the story of that day. And how my pain was so overwhelming I couldn’t even remember the words, “Holy, holy, holy.” But God heard me anyways. And I knelt down on the cobblestones again and again and looked others in the eyes and said, “God wants to show you His power and love by healing you in the name of Jesus Christ.”

And maybe, just maybe, that is His message to me this morning, the beginning of a new week. Nine more days in my vocational version of Jesus Loves the Little Children of the World.

I want to show you My power and love by healing you in the name of Jesus Christ.

Holy, holy, holy.

And yesterday I read to Cameron out of my new favorite book, Mary by Sholem Asch, the Polish Jew. These are the peoples of the world,” the strange woman said, “and this is the cry of their yearning for the salvation you bear in their behalf. For by the fruit of your womb shall they be united in one kindred before God.

As we, all of us, sing, Holy, holy, holy.