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Glance My Way

June 30, 2015

"OPEN YOUR HANDS and your heart to receive this day as a precious gift from Me. I begin each day with a sunrise, announcing My radiant Presence. By the time you rise from your bed, I have already prepared the way before you. I eagerly await your first conscious thought. I rejoice when you glance My way." 

Sarah Young, Jesus Calling, June 25

 

 

I think back to my first schoolgirl crush. Fifth grade. Tall, surfer-dude Derek. He gave me a Hang Ten Decal.

 

Well, after I hung around him incessantly, bumping him in line, tossing my hair over my shoulder, pumping my crossed leg. All so he would glance my way.

 

Oh so much work I've invested in my lifetime - just so someone would glance my way!

 

That schoolgirl crush matured into downright gotta-have-infatuation with another man, the man who would become my husband. In line at a salad bar on our first date, I actually bunny nibbled his shoulder. So he would glance my way.

 

As a budding writer, I entered a business meeting at a publishing house with a plateful of chocolate chip cookies. So they'd glance my way and pick me as their very own author.

 

As a mom, I've crazy-waved to my children on the school auditorium stage from a parent-filled audience. So they'd glance my way and know I was there, clapping and cheering. Same with my grandson.

 

Reading this line in Jesus Calling absolutely screeched me to a halt. To think that God rejoices when I glance his way. Which I do less often than I wish. So very much less often.

 

I imagine God's workings - to grab my attention. A dramatic sunrise of scarlet and crimson laced with burgundy and indigo. A close-in parking place. A miraculous answer to specific need. Beauty birthed from brokenness. All beckon, glance my way?

 

My heart lurches. An arrow pierces my being. Memories of other efforts that failed to turn the heads of my longings. My father behind his newspaper. My mother on the couch, distracted with her cigarette smoke curling upwards. My teacher ignoring the correct pronunciation of my name. The cartwheels of my soul to grab their attention with no success.

 

The resulting sting of being ignored.

 

Oh, how God loves me. My, how he works to grab my gaze. I push the unintended shame away. (I truly believe that God's conviction in our beings is not about heaping shame on our souls but rather about inviting us further into grace.) I open my eyes and turn my head ... and look ... his way.

 

And there he is. Again. Loving. Embracing. Accepting. Leading.

 

Rejoicing.

  

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