blessings remain.

imageThe old sheet with faded roses lay on the sand and we stretched our sun warmed bodies acrossed it. The breeze blew. Shyly, the sun hid beneath a blanket of clouds as the saltwater lapped placidly onto shore. Although the colors weren’t bright like Pinterest pictures and there weren’t many friendly or perfect people, it was paradise. It was a real perfection which many things didn’t contained. We were happy. Simply, we rested in the peace of it all and dream sweet things of what life must be like past the horizon we saw.

I dreamed of bright colors, of clothes hanging and blowing in the wind. In a village far south, I saw a happy little home. And I saw friends and patients and people whom I would love. We didn’t have much in the pictures I held in my head, but we were full of joy because of the God we followed. We were a happy family, loving and giving and learning with all that we had. Life was meant to be lived in this simplicity.

Abruptly, my gaze was brought closer to shore with a bird flying in view.

And I realize: birds in the wind; that’s what we are. We soar and fall and dream into the horizon. And as we gaze far away, we miss so much of the beauty around us. We miss the people on the rose printed sheet and the gentle ocean at our toes. We overlook the salty goodness of the water and the gritty sand which makes us human.

Instead of keeping eyes open and searching, I closed mine. Breathing deep, I took in the salty smell of the breeze blowing around me. To the people and the waves, I listened. I felt the humidity on my skin, as well as the Sandinista my pores. I curled my toes around shells. While I found it all around me, I tasted the goodness of the Lord.

I wondered why I believed I must to wait to live life simple. Why couldn’t I just be thankful today and smile all the time and dance barefooted in the streets? Why couldn’t I simply find delight in the little blessings I held in my hand each day?

And somehow I realize the poor are more blessed than those with much. They treasure what they have. They do not take blessings for granted and they are always thankful.

I want to be poor for Him who choose to be so for me. I want to be like Him and thank the Father everyday for the simple blessings he places at my toes. I taste his goodness, and I find it in everything. I know the horizon lays a long way off, but I know blessings remain close, if only I close my eyes and simply breathe—breathe slow and long enough to find them.

“God blesses those who are poor and realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs.”
Matthew‬ ‭5‬:‭3‬ NLT


2 thoughts on “blessings remain.


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