Little Miracles

I'm coming home.

In less than a week, I'll be back home in Atlanta.

The reason being? Sometimes plans don't work out the way that we expect them to. I have other reasons, but one of them is merely financial prudency. The Lord has put on my heart to move here to Hawaii long-term in my own little apartment and such a move requires a season of transition and financial preparation. And time to align the details of a job, transportation, and a place to live.

So I return home three months earlier than planned.

These two months being away from home again have been good. Stressful and very, very difficult, but good. They've grown me. They've challenged me. They've taught me to trust the wisdom of an instinct of restlessness. They've given me clarity and they've introduced other lives and other stories into mine.

I continue onto a course of transiency, drifting from one place to another, moving from a life that I've always known to a building a life for myself in a world away from everyone and everything I've ever loved. I live in a realm where the Past, the Present, and the Future are a blur together.

I'll be thankful for the settled months of living in Georgia again, and I'll be thankful for later putting down roots of my own in Hawaii. Past then, I don't know the big picture. I don't know all of the details or who will be by my side for the journey and who will step away from my life for a season or for forever. But every day I'm learning a little better that I don't have to know all of the answers. I walk this journey one step at a time, wherever it takes me. And I let go.

A couple Thursday nights ago, I was at my favorite coffee shop, getting my loyalty-card free drink, with my Canadian friend Julia. Earlier we had taken pictures together on the a'a (the black lava rocks) and were then watching the sunset and talking. I had just made my decision that afternoon to return home.

We had seen a small gecko crawling on the railing of the lanai, but as I stood to snap a picture of the sunset on the water, the little green lizard peeked his head over the railing again and smiled up at me as Julia clicked a photo of him with my iPhone.

I later looked back at the pictures. In one, the beautiful sunset and coastline were the main subject. In the other, the same sunset and ocean were in the backdrop but the gecko was the foreground subject. Such similar photos but with a different focus. 

One on the big picture. The other on the smallest details. 

Yet how easy it would've been to only notice the sunset and never the bright colors of the gecko. His blue eyes, his green back, his red speckles. His tiny feet. The texture of his small body. I would've missed seeing the fingerprints of God in the littlest details of nature. 

But how many times have I done that in life? I'm a planner: I need goals and I need a big picture of where I'm headed. I've been called a go-getter. Maybe you are too. But how many times have we focused so much on the big scope of life and the plans ahead that the Lord has for us that we've missed out on the little miracles of everyday? 

I land in Atlanta, Georgia again in five days. And this time when I'm home again, I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to spend my time so focused on the future ahead that I forget to enjoy the blessings in my present path. We miss out on so much in life that way. 

God, open our eyes- my eyes- to the little miracles You bless us with, seeing the work of Your hands in every detail of the masterpiece You're making of our lives. You've made such beautiful things and You make such beautiful things.