Waiting.

I don’t have much to say this morning. Words seem costly at this hour of the morning and precarious in the silence of early day. I don’t spend a lot of mornings this way, but this morning I'm remembering the way He is with us and way we are without Him.

What I mean to say is this: Look how faithful and present and abundant He has been with us. look at our history – has He not been there the entire time? Has not every moment been saturated by His presence and protection and provision?

Sigh. Yes. Yes.

At the same time, look at how we are still without Him. Do you feel that distance? Can you feel how far heaven is? Don’t you ache for that which is “not yet”? For completed union, fulfilled days, and eternity begun.

I suppose this is the paradox of our lives. With Him and still without Him. Waiting and longing and ever full of His presence.

Oh, Lord … that You would rend the heavens. That You would come down.

We’re hoping – squinting into the sunrise and hoping on those clouds, this day, and maybe even this morning You’ll come.

Come soon, Yellow Bird.

We’re waiting.