beauty

My guess is that I'll never publish this because I'll conclude that it's too "cheesy," but I'm overwhelmed with something that I must try to put into words (and then erase from the slate if deemed necessary by my "rational" mind). Beauty. I've been extremely frustrated all week because I am longing for it, needing to taste it and touch it and bask in it. When I encounter it, I am easily moved to quiet tears trickling down my cheeks (which could easily become weeping if I really let myself go there). Beauty in words. In my children's eyes. In the leaves that are steadily losing their green. In photos that touch the deep places in my soul. In music. In the smell of pumpkin and cinnamon and warm soup and chocolate. In laughter. In candlelight and warm fires.... The problem is that my encounters seem short-lived and interrupted these days. Instead of long and satisfying drinks, they have become tiny sips that don't quench the thirst of my parched senses. Interrupted by the hurricane-like wreckage that surrounds me in what is supposed to be my home, my refuge. Interrupted by mountains of laundry that understand multiplication and know nothing of subtraction! Interrupted by the noise of sibling squabbles that seem to never find their end. Interrupted by endless demands and the disquieting realization that I can never meet them all. Interrupted by the reality of my own brokenness and that of fellow beauty-seekers around me. Interrupted by the racing of a mind that cannot find its quiet place of rest. But what am I really longing for? Is it really a perfectly ordered home and peaceful children and neighbors who aren't seeking that extra $5 to cover one more drink? No. I am longing for Beauty. He has a name. He has a face. He is the Author of the words that cover my weary soul. He is the One singing over me. He paints a canvas of beauty that cannot even be described by human tongue. His laughter is deep and endless. And He smells and tastes sweet. All that I see and touch and smell and hear now is flowing directly from Him - and He is always available and He is more than a little "sip." And somehow when He is the One on whom my gaze stays fixed, the chaos and the noise and the laundry and the brokenness take on a beauty that finds its roots in hope. And hope does not disappoint. And His kingdom is breaking in now. Thank You that You don't leave us parched, Holy Spirit. Thank You that Your beauty brings life. I think I can sleep now.