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The Saturday Journal: I don't want to miss one minute...

tathelmillerwriter

A few mornings a week I travel this familiar four-lane leading on to Main Street and as I look to my left, the sun is rising. I glance at the beauty but only for a minute so as not to take my eyes off this busy road where the hustle and roar of motors never seem to cease. I vow I am going to leave my home earlier and pull over for just a few minutes–bask in the beauty–take a photo. And I do just that the next morning but the cloud cover hid this glowing light of warmth–it was there–but not for my eyes to see–


My Bible lays flat open to the book of Psalms and this one verse crushes on my heart, This is the LORD's doing; It is marvellous in our eyes (118:24). And I had some hard questions to ask myself–Do I see You like I used to? Where are You God? I mean I see, or maybe a better word is glance Your way–however the moments are short-lived way too often. And sometimes, there’s no pondering–no marvel–no giving of thanks–like I should. And I come to the sadness of my reality–deeply ashamed–and I answer my own questions–I have missed You so many times as of late–I’ve been living focused on the hands of the clock–rather than slowing to fully live for the One whose hands are scarred–because of me.


Lord, I pray. Please forgive me.

Green fields are dying to rest for winter sleep–the quietness of fallow ground is coming. And the local produce store’s front entrance is bursting in oranges and whites and grays–pumpkins of all shapes and sizes. Every season brings its own unique beauty. But fall–oh my goodness–the exquisite glory of fall.


Lord, help me–teach me–I don’t want to miss one minute of You.


This is the LORD's doing; It is marvellous in our eyes.

My daughter-in-love sent me a video this week of my youngest grandbaby boy getting off the school bus for the first time and his smile is larger than life. And a phone call from my oldest grandbaby girl telling me her presentation went really good--the science project she created with real honey and a make-believe “half-dog and half honeybee”. And a text and photo from my oldest grandbaby boy thanking me for helping him understand a little better about the true meaning of Christmas. My answer to him–you are the one teaching me more about God’s love--Every. Single. Day.


Lord, help me–teach me–I don’t want to miss one minute of You.


This is the LORD's doing; It is marvellous in our eyes.

It’s arts and craft time during Sunday School class and we are needing more beads so I open the door to the supply room and there he was sitting on the floor in his "Sunday go-to-meeting suit and tie" holding a bottle of glue in one hand and a high-heel shoe in the other. He said the heel broke off her shoe and he was trying to fix it. At first I thought it was his wife’s shoe–the pastor’s wife–and then he told me it was another lady’s shoe–one of the older ladies in our church. And on this Sabbath Day–once more, I saw the hands and feet of Jesus serving in humble grace.


Lord, help me–teach me–I don’t want to miss one minute of You.


This is the LORD's doing; It is marvellous in our eyes.

I listen to their stories–both of the widows with tears welling up in their eyes–one’s story of her husband’s last days–the other of how her little dog would go from room to room searching for his best friend–her husband. In their faces of grief there is a multitude of hope and they cling to the promise of a better tomorrow. And there I was hoping something I could say or do would give them comfort–only to discover it is their courage and faith that touches me to the core and reminds me to keep looking--looking for the blessed hope of eternity--which is sure to come.


Lord, help me–teach me–I don’t want to miss one minute of You.


This is the LORD's doing; It is marvellous in our eyes.


The clock hand is nearing the sunrise hour and I’m leaving a few minutes early. My plan is set. I get to the place where I am going to pull off the road and again, there is cloud cover with a hint of glow coming through the fog. This grand plan of mine–I had it all figured out–what I would see–what time I would arrive and just how long I had before rushing to the next thing. And there I was, disappointed on this day--but God's plans are not always our plans--I say that with thankfulness. There will be another day. And I believe Chrystal Evans Hurst, author and Bible teacher may have said it best when she said this, "It's never about what you think you are looking for, it's all about looking for Him."


So, please Lord, help me–teach me–I don’t want to miss one minute of You.


This is the LORD's doing; It is marvellous in our eyes.



A humble thank you for reading The Saturday Journal.

My prayer is to share The Saturday Journal every Saturday or at least bi-weekly--

but always on Saturdays. If you would like to have The Saturday Journal come to your email box, please subscribe to A Beautiful Grace blog and newsletter at

http://www.tathelmiller.com

All photos @copyright Tathel Miller, unless otherwise credited to another photographer.







 

2 Comments


Brenda Wayne Wyatt
Brenda Wayne Wyatt
Sep 30, 2023

Your stories are like you. Wonderful.


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winglerka
Sep 30, 2023

Your stories never fail to touch deeply and to remind me of what is important. I don’t want to miss a minute! Thank you!

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