I’ve recently picked up a new habit, and it’s not my fault.
I hold responsible the view out my window – a dogwood turning to shades of cinnamon and crimson – and the perfect, sunny 75 degree days. Both of these beckon me onto the porch, so that I now crave sitting in the rocking chair and reading a book in the afternoons.
Now I didn’t say this was a bad habit, but any habit is something you do mindlessly. Automatically. Without pausing and giving thanks.
The book I am currently reading, Creative Nonfiction, explains how to write a book and states, “Every good story contains a moment after which things can never be the same again. A moment of profound change…”
What moment in your life has profoundly changed you?
I thought back to the passage I read in Luke that morning, when the women began preparing spices and ointments for Christ in the tomb. Then “on the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment.” The crucifixion moment had not (yet) altered their life. They continued on with life as usual, following their schedule.
Instead, it is their discovery of the empty tomb that becomes their “moment.” And in their excitement, they could not help but tell others. The moment that profoundly changes life going forward is the resurrection and Christ reappearing in physical form. Everything is altered. And God’s people cannot help but worship with great joy and be “continually in the temple blessing God” (Luke 24:50).
The book of Luke ends at this defining moment.
And it is here that I want the story to continue with me, rejoicing in the Lord always; “again, I will say, Rejoice” (Phil. 4:4). Sitting on the porch and reading a book, or even folding clothes and washing dishes, I want to mindfully give thanks. Will you join me?