[vc_row fullwidth="false" attached="false" padding="0" visibility="" animation=""][vc_column border_color="" visibility="" width="1/1"][vc_column_text disable_pattern="true" align="left" margin_bottom="0"]Monday night. Trash comes on Tuesday. Time to maneuver the big, red can out of its hiding place and down the long driveway. My usual, last minute self would be scurrying out the door on a Tuesday morning, coffee in one hand, soft-sided, brown satchel hastily slung over my shoulder, kids in-tow, dropping the keys while yelling "Come on, Bammers!" All of this would happen after my gracious wife sent me a text to remind me: "Today is trash day." I start the car, pull to the end of the driveway, see all the other red cans, jump back out and compete in a trash can race - with myself. At least I can win this one. Tonight is different. I'm slowly meandering down the driveway with nowhere to be and a sky full of stars beckoning me to hear the song of the ages. (Ok, I will admit that Lisa did just text me from upstairs to tell me that it's trash day tomorrow, but the key here is that I am listening to her and doing what she says.)
I reach the end of the driveway, wheel the can into position and sense that He is calling me to stop and look up. Running through my head are a few phrases from my friend and Pastor, Brandon Zieske in his sermon from a few days before. One in particular: "If you are breathing this morning, you should be praising Him." What better moment than this one? Just me, the stars, the red trash can, and a God who knows my every thought.
I am a pin prick in the fabric of history, a drop in this ocean of humanity and I am calling out to the Maker of the stars. Such a weird mystery - to be so loved and accepted by a God we cannot see. I'm one of those stars that Abraham saw, a descendant of the Gospel of Grace, reflecting back praise and glory to the One who saved me. Here in this small town, on this insignificant driveway, I find a closeness like never before.
My prayer and adoration takes on the skin of my little boy as I heard him pray not too long ago:
"God, let me be your man."
No theological treatise, no word study, no verses to recite. Just simple adoration and praise sent from my heart into the expanse of the heavens. Do you hear me, Lord?
Yes. I believe you do.
How about you? How have you experienced God's grace in the mundane?[/vc_column_text][mk_icon_box2 icon_type="icon" icon_size="64" icon="mk-li-paper-plane" icon_color="#02b3ff" title="Follow Chad's Blog and never miss a post." title_size="24" title_weight="inherit" title_top_padding="10" title_bottom_padding="10" align="center"]Subscribe Here to get the good stuff delivered to your inbox every week.[/mk_icon_box2][/vc_column][/vc_row]