There is a holy rhythm to the close of day; one I have come to cherish like a well-worn prayer. The moment I cross the threshold of home, my feet carry me to the kitchen without thought, without deliberation. It is instinct. It is love made visible. I lose myself in the quiet ceremony of preparing the evening meal. The soft rhythm of chopping, the warmth rising from the stove, the setting of the table like an altar prepared with intention. I wash the dishes I have dirtied, restoring order, completing the circle. Only then do I permit myself to rest. I settle into the living room, the couch receiving me like an old friend. I reach for the remote and search for something with edges; murder, intrigue, the shadowed world of spies. I am drawn to suspense the way a moth is drawn to candlelight. And as I wait for the sound of my husband's key in the door, somewhere between one heartbeat and the next, my eyes grow heavy... and I drift. A stolen nap. A small mercy. His arrival stirs me ...
Based on Jeremiah 31:14 “My dearest soul,” the Lord seems to whisper, “I will fill you yes, abundantly so with My goodness.” There are moments in life when one feels rather like an empty teacup; useful, perhaps, but quite in need of filling. Yet here is the delightful truth: we are not called to live half-filled, worn thin, or merely managing. No indeed. We are invited into a life brimming over with the rich, undeserved grace of God. The Lord, in His tender kindness, is not content to leave hearts weary and spirits dull. He delights in restoring joy, proper, deep-rooted joy and bringing a sense of fulfilment that no earthly striving could ever accomplish. What a comfort to know that He specialises in restoration, even when we feel a touch beyond repair. And this promise? It is not reserved for a select few with perfect composure or unwavering strength. It is for all His children including you, dear heart. His goodness is not measured out sparingly. It arrives with generosity: in bl...