The King Of Bedazzle

I saw it on the news station, this breaking news piece on laptops in the airport, undetected bombs they say are possible. Will this madness ever end?  I flip open my suitcase, think about packing and glance at the long list of items scribbled on a sheet of paper. Leaving soon for a trip back east and desperately longing for a mind cleanse, a spiritual detox from all the latest breaking reports on all the hurt, the political chaos, the famine, the wars and all the what-ifs swirling around the airwaves, the Internet feeds, the newspapers. How can we stay sane in this environment of hate, suspicion and starving people who desperately need the aid that's having a hard time getting there? We need clean air! And laptops? Tucking a shirt into the suitcase, I inhale one of those breaths our yoga instructor says are cleansing, healthy and maybe spiritual too. Oh God, overwhelm us with majesty, bedazzle us, help us to keep walking and living upright. And this slow exhale leaves a trail of possibility, a scent of hope expelling into the room,

Later, in church, I feel His hand touching us all, a feathery brush, a gentle hello. A silent walking down the aisle, between the rows, reaching the girl up there with Downs Syndrome, the black woman across the aisle, the Hispanic couple two rows ahead, the older man with silvery hair, the whole lot of us. This guy who won the battle and never gives up on us and here today He made time to hang out with us. Heaven's aroma wafting right around our praising, pleading frames and I stand there in awestruck wonder. You hear, right? You see all the fighting, crying, greed and hate going on, right? You got it all figured out but we kind of want to know that it will all be OK.

 And I get home, open a book on the table and read a line penned by Ann Voskamp: "The answer to the problem of evil is everything that lets us keep loving God-even in the face of evil." We can pray, we can sing, we can help others, we can stay informed but not let the chaos form us.

So I inhale once again a deep yoga breath, a prayer breath really, releasing it ever so slowly, and it spills into the partially packed suitcase sitting on the bed. And I am pretty sure He hears us.

Oh God, you are the King of bedazzle.