As I sit here the birds are in chorus across the street and the suns rays are glorious across my back. I can barely see the screen in the light, but I have to be out here. I don’t want to ignore God’s beautiful morning.

In prayer just an hour ago, my insides felt as flat as a gray stone. I whispered, “How is it that I can sit here, knowing the God of the Universe is here listening to my prayer and I can feel so emotionally flat? How is that possible?”

I don’t let it out, I don’t talk to Him because it sounds too much like whining. It’s better to keep it stuffed behind the barrier. But then I do start sharing it all, and as it spills out something wonderful happens. Distant, Holy, Immovable, Omnipotent God becomes my Abba Father again. And it’s warmer than the sun on my back how He loves me. And once again it surprises me how He really does want to hear it all.

The wine becomes the blood, and the wafer becomes the body and it’s something real, something we can see, hear taste and touch in Him and each other. And it’s bigger than anything else in this life. And when our tears become like the wine and we pour out our hearts to each other? This is the gift exchange God really wants. Freely we have received, freely we give.

This kind of Holy transubstantiation is what He gives us first so that in turn, we can give it to others.

Inside me the rock cracks open and tears come when I realize that what has just happened is something Holy, something of a miracle.

The doves coo and the birds continue their serenade and Elaine honks as she goes by in her school bus. She sees that the umbrella is up and I am out here. The kids will be glad to have her back today. I don’t think the substitute driver sings with them or compliments them on their outfits, or loves them enough to not let them get away with everything. She never looks through them, she always sees them and they know it. And since Jesus is in her, He is on that bus too.

And I know He is smiling while she is doing His work with those kids.

The sun beats down, warmer now, and I revel in its glow.

Because I never have to play that daisy game with God, because I know it’s always the same answer, “He loves me.”