Sabbath: Time to Witness Heaven Touching Earth

I’m at the end of Emily Freeman’s lovely book, A Million Little Ways, on life and art and an art filled ordinary and also carrying the heaviness of my Nona’s passing.

(Isn’t she stunning?

Classy. That’s the word I keep hearing. Inside and out. She never gossiped, risked everything for love and dressed as if today she could be invited to tea with the queen. Today is visiting hours. Tomorrow Andrew and I have the privilege of leading the funeral service.)

This quote from Emily on page 185 rang authentic for these days:


“When we stepped off the elevator for the first time on the Palliative Care Unit to visit Frank, I had the distinct feeling of the presence of God. This is a place where heaven touches earth. It was real, palpable, comforting. But heaven touches earth in my living room too. In my bedroom and in my front yard and on top of the Empire State Building and on an island in the middle of the sea and in the cardboard houses in Manila and on my front porch. Heaven touches earth every minute, when I touch my husband’s hand and look into his eyes, when the girls whisper good nights and I love you and the boy makes a mess with toy airplanes and crayons. Heaven is touching earth right now. But sometimes it takes endings for us to see it.”


I pray that today the dust of earth will be washed from your eyes. That you will see heaven touching earth, His glory spread like a soft blanket of light into your everyday.


Take time to look, taste, touch, smell, hear and breathe deeply of this God-made life. Feast on the present. Blessings, my friends.

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