Last nights sunset was glorious.
As I ran outside to capture the glow, and pointed my lens up above me, my ear was inclined.
My soul awakened. My lungs full of the air of promise.
And promise it was. A new day greeted me this morning. One without checking a running newsfeed every half an hour. Instead I read more impacting words.
And oh my, what a day.
Just what if your ear was inclined today?
Maybe you'd open your kitchen to a new friend, and maybe she'd hear the gospel for the first time from the heart of someone who was saved from a past of deep hurt and shame.
Maybe you'd sit around with coffees and share your hearts and there'd be no awkward silences, only quiet, thoughtful reflection, tears and a little bit of prayer.
Maybe later there would be a phone call from another, who doesn't do religion but feels drawn to the church, and the sense of community she felt when she came at your last invitation. Maybe she doesn't believe in God, but tells you that you are her 'out and up', and maybe in your heart you are praying hard.
Maybe you thought of what the poet Rumi said, and thought that just maybe you are closing your mouth and speaking Jesus in a hundred silent ways - and just maybe this quiet praying, this secret listening, is helping them to hear.
Because today was glorious. Just like last night's sunset.