she leaves it on my front door step,
those couple of days before christmas;
that sweet little bird that nestles in the palm of my hand.
i opened it early.
because that's what i do,
and i cupped the fragile glass and brought it inside.
it sat on my counter until this morning.
sat so i could look at it
and determine its use.
and it's the day after christmas,
the day that begins a week that feels just as fragile as this tiny bird.
His first coming has been celebrated and remembered,
and as i woke up this morning, i thought of His second...
the one we still wait for.
and maybe because the one who calls me daughter
returns in the coming day;
how He uses this man to show me facets of His Father Heart
and draws me closer to Him.
i had cleaned up the house today,
prepared the menu for dinner.
i know the day and the hour that he returns,
and we can hardly wait.
and so i get ready.
i don't know the day or the hour that my Jesus is coming back.
it's easy to forget in the busyness of the days that run into each other.
easy to place the anticipation on a back burner...
but this morning?
i rearranged some of my things on that windowsill above my kitchen sink
and placed the wee bird down in between my faith and my love.
i placed hope in the form of a little glass bird
in front of my window
and lit a fire inside.
i choose to look for hope in these days ahead...
to cling to His promise
when i miss his dad so much.
and in the dark,
may hope burn bright and clear,
and that light find me prepared for my Father's coming..