All posts tagged: praise

Into the Secret Garden of His Presence

I’d been thinking it all wrong. We were in church, singing. I love singing those songs that carry me to a place of peace and worship, songs that focus my attention on what I wish I’d been focusing on all week long; God’s love for me. So many distractions, still. I squeezed my eyes shut, raised my hands, palms up, surrender. When distractions buzz around my head I focus on Jesus – his name, his presence, even the image of him. I block out the reality of all the bodies around me and their voices and their eyes, I block them all out, or I try, so that it’s just the two of us. That’s what I did today. As the music crescendoed I pictured Jesus up there in the sky, high above me, looking down benevolently. There may have even been some fluffy white clouds at his feet. I’m surprised at myself. Even as I put the thought bubble into words. What was I thinking? What kind of stereotyped version of my Saviour had I conjured up …

God in the Smell of Frying Onion

  “We get so caught up in the emotional,” she said with her hand splayed across her chest, “and the intellectual,” moving her hand to her right temple. “But God is in the sensory too.” We’d been discussing a soul-weary friend who’d found healing and restoration through cooking. The grip of hand on wooden spoon. The rhythmic flex of muscles as she mixes, mixes. The smells of cocoa, butter, sugar. The cloud of flour. The finger scraped around the bowl’s lip to taste the batter. The warmth of the oven. The satisfaction as she slides the tray into the heat, sets the timer. I know you know what I mean. It’s when those of us with mentally and emotionally demanding jobs (motherhood included) look admiringly at the woman serving our coffee. Oh, for a job that’s only demand is physical – the dash from table to table, the balance of cups and saucers, the binning of coffee grinds – all while the exercise, the aroma, the chatter feeds a strange yearning for tactile stimulation. I …