Child’s grace.

I am home briefly on a day's interlude between weddings;
Wisps of empty moments fill with sleep and remembering His work.
Dear friends are married - one, as He is One.

While out west the week of the wedding, I had the deepest pleasure of staying with the bride's family - enjoying parents and children, and Him in them in their ways.

Thursday night - clothed with tradition, wife-and-husband-to-be had honoured the bride's parents and elders with warm cups of tea. Ceremony of thanks and refreshment.
And in return, they were showered, and they were blessed: in flows from Father through quiet, strong daddy, sweeping them up sure and free in Hesed of small, faithful Jacob-mama, made ready in His time.

I wept so happy - for each of us is child-longing, waiting to receive, steadily opening to blessing-prepared and faith-shared.

and here I write of Child's grace...

Hands that held her
And made me -
I long for them to bless.

Burn, hard, real and deep;
Soul heat.
I long for the words of Christ on your lips.

I am child-blessed if I look,
Where you don’t know yet He shines.
And wait and wait and pray.

For your hands to clasp,
Knees to numb to feeling ground,
And heart enlivened, pounding as at birth.

And for you to bless me;
For you to speak to me Christ-
Father, my prayer.

You, in whose womb I rested long and grew -
How I long for you, Mother-Christ:
For drawing me in deep and down where blood washes sin.

To teach me this body too -
To anticipate its needs and nurture,
And to revel together in His glory - woman.

I long for days when rugged faith
Walks into future from bearer to born,
And His Cross is yours and mine.

Grace, and grace, and grace again –
Grace only can make children.
Grace only can let them wonder for grown-up things.

Tonight I give thanks:

• for safe flights.
• strangers, friends & in-between.
• bouquets of flowers.
• leads & follows.
• patience.