
Early morning sunshine and coffee;
quiet to read, reflect, remember:
Memories of unmerited mercies are little things –
Atoms of joy –
Are they stable?
Then, early morning headlines explode;
they back up what Solomon said,
Hard hearts make mean rulers, and lousy friends.
Life accelerates.
Texts, emails — news from friends:
Worldly sorrows are like atom smashers.
Then something even smaller destabilizes the calm:
the seed of my sin is a derailing quark.
Where is a binding force – to hold what life would split apart:
Two words:
But, God. . .
Who built each atom,
and sees what I can’t know,
Yet, still makes time for me–
and thee.
Have we made time for Him?

It’s the Little Things . . .
Love the atom and atom smasher. One day the rock will either prove himself to be the author of hope or horror. May we experience him in awe and astonishment, drawn to worship him alone!
Amen Good Buddy!