How you can know He is good (and enough)

The sun’s blazing glory just there by the barn. Rounding the corner, I see rays kissing my spot of sweet solace, the BOS. The Bright Orange Swing.

I sit in the light, mug in hand, and sip heaven. I reach for my phone, begin scrolling. And then.

I’m done. I slip it back into its pouch. “Lord, I’m sorry.”

“I know what you’re looking for.”

I wait. Father always explains things.

“When you’re looking for faces, looking for words, what you’re really looking for is…Me.”

Okay.

I wait. The coffee is hot, hands curl around mug, and I listen.

“You’re looking for Me. And I am all that you need. Very many of My people never know this, that I am truly all that they need.”

And so I say it. For when life’s been stripped down to the real and the true, you learn to speak it. There’s no more pretense. No more Sunday School charades. It’s all open and honest and–real.

“But I don’t really feel like You are all I need.”

How kind, and how loving. How patient and gentle, this wild, great Father who lets His kids struggle. Who allows them the privilege of wrestling! Oh, how good…

And then come those words He’d said before, “Taste and see.”

“Taste Me. In the song of the birds. In the feel of the breeze. In the sun on your face. In My Word. Take Me in.”

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On the road past our house, school traffic is rushing. But in this Place of Sweet Solace, it’s still, very still. Filled with birdsong, and breeze, and the sun.

“Taste Me, and you’ll see.”

I’m running, now, up and down country roads. I’m thinking on tasting, and seeing. Thinking how one must come first, then the other. And I remember that dessert in Atlanta.

How lovely it was, how perfect, artistic. But we could not know it for true ’til we’d tasted.

Tasting first, then the seeing.

And oh, I can tell you, it was good!