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I lied.

Maybe not lied, really.

More like didn’t admit to all of the truth.

The whole truth (and nothing but) is that this “grace drought” I’ve been experiencing hasn’t just been a grace drought. It’s been an everything drought. In the middle of doing exactly what I know I’m meant to do, it’s felt like the One who promised to go ahead of me didn’t remember I was running along behind. Like He’s forgotten to come back and meet up with me at the rendezvous point we agreed upon.

I was reading my Bible, but with a bit of an arched back – like the tantrum-throwing child who will not consent to her shirt being changed.

I was praying, but in a distracted way – with about as much intent as the “uh-hus” grunted by a spouse watching the football game.

As I’ve forced my arched back to relax and brought my wandering attention back to the Whisper, I’ve found a cassette tape on repeat. It’s whispering over and over, “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here”.

I’m here in the difficult conversations you had to have that went well and grew you.

I’m here in the box of goodies from your friend in America.

I’m here in my Word – I’m listening when you want to talk.

I’m here in the generosity of your friends who invite you into their house every time you need a home to drop in for a while.

I’m here in the chances to invest in other people, to listen, to pour out a bit of what I taught you into someone else.

I’m here in the coffee shop with an odd soundtrack and lukewarm hot chocolate where you collect your thoughts and reach towards Me again.

I’m here…

I’m here… 

I’m here.

Maybe grace isn’t as far away as I imagined it to be.