"This is our year of LIFE," Eric says.
And it is true. Our home is teeming with life. So much so that it is starting to overflow.
A caterpillar sits on the kitchen table in a jar with leaves and sticks.
Ducklings are hatching out of their eggs at this very moment that I write this.
A bowl sits on the counter, filled with good things to eat from the garden, harvested just minutes before.
The chickens are almost ready to lay their first eggs.
Our daughters are growing, oh so fast.
Some of the most significant things in life are also the most overlooked.
Holding an egg in my hands that is teeming with life, I hear in my heart:
This is why I am here. This is why I exist.
The caterpillar of a swallowtail butterfly living in a jar that sits on our kitchen table, munching carrot greens. Lexi checks on him every five minutes.
This, right here, is life.
Gardens, thriving, overflowing, producing abundance.
Chickens growing, laying eggs.
Baby ducklings peep peeping out of their safe little shells.
Little girls dancing, laughing, full of joy and hope and young young life.
This is it. I am alive for all THIS.
Many years ago, when I was living with my parents in Mexico, a few friends from back home in northern Illinois used to write me letters. They lived on a small farm, more hobby than livelihood. But the thing that always used to amuse me to no end was the content of their letters. Every single letter was packed with information about the animals on their farm, especially any new babies that had been recently born. The baby animals were described in detail, along with their names and colors, etc. Kittens, I remember, were somewhat of a regular occurrence on the farm, but each time a new litter was birthed, it was described just as if it was the first.
Miracle.
I used to laugh and think the letters contents were silly. Didn't they have other things to talk about, rather than send a letter all the way to Mexico just to tell me that five more kittens were born?
Maybe so, but the fact is, I didn't get it.
I don't think I fully understood it until the morning when that egg was cradled in my hand, and life took on new meaning.
To witness a new life emerge is perhaps akin to those first few breaths on the day of Creation. To witness the coming forth of a new life, is to fully take part in it. To witness the first beginnings of a new life is to see with God's eyes and see how very much he truly loves us.
To witness new life is to fully be alive. New life brings joy, because it is a GIFT from the Father of all gifts. How can we be silent about it? We speak the miracles. We SHOUT them from the rooftops!
The moment of Quickening, when I feel the baby for the first time in my womb. Fluttering so gentle, so real.
The first lusty cry of the oxygen filled lungs and then the wonder moment and I am looking into my child's face for the very first time.
Miracle.
Only God could have done this.
Only God could be this good.
I am overwhelmed.
Not by hatching eggs. I have seen eggs hatch before, and trust me, each time I am just as excited as the last.
I am overwhelmed by the goodness of a God who gives us good gifts. Gifts of life that we don't even deserve. And yet, still. There they are. Because He loves us that much.
I have been thinking a lot lately about the purpose of life. The ultimate question of why are we here and what are we supposed to do with the life we have been given.
This evening I am spraying down the yard after the chickens daily shenanigans and all I could keep thinking is,
the purpose of life is to love God and glorify Him forever.
It's really beautiful, isn't it? That God creates man forms him out of dust and breathes his own breath into his lungs. And then just wants us, in return, to love Him and live in eternal thanksgiving? Eucharisteo.
Ann Voskamp is right. Eucharisteo really is the answer. It is the key to communion with God in all those significant things that are sometimes so very small and normal that we overlook them completely. Like a tiny beak tapping its way out of its hard trappings. Or the giggle of a child tugging at your clothes to play. A fat caterpillar named Guacamole munching on leaves in its makeshift habitat. A tomato in the garden, gradually turning from emerald green to vibrant red.
Life isn't tomorrow. It's not somewhere in the future with the better job, house, situation, etc.
Life is now. Life is all these little moments. These little significant moments where we truly are standing on holy ground before our Creator. And Facebook isn't here. It's nowhere to be found. Neither is the smartphone and instagrams, the ipod, the headphones, the computer, the kindle - all the things that are constantly pulling for our attention away from our realities - our real lives. These are forever the tools of DISTRACTION.
Don't forget what it means to live.
Because it is for these little moments of eternity that we are even alive.
To love God and glorify Him forever.
