It’s the Little Things . . .

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?

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