Kisses and Smoke

Delight is rejoicing in the glory of someone or something that is perfectly who or what it is meant to be.

I love the quiet surprises. A person you know who suddenly reveals a hidden or different side that you never caught because you don't ordinarily draw that out of them. A sweet breath from the heart of one of my grandmother's roses, their seemingly shabbier beauty bestowed hence with an aching grandeur. A customer who catches a joke and tries to play along, someone you've known for years but never connected with until now. A word of grace where none was expected. A ray of light in an otherwise grey sky.

May the Lord lift up His countenance upon you... 

"Who are you?"

This is a question that has meandered in and out of my head, because who we identify ourselves as is so telling. If you ask that question, the average person will say his name. But what if you tell that person that he cannot say his name, what will he identify himself as then? Some might say "the son of _______ " or name their professions. Among my first identifiers, I would probably note my sisters, but it would take a while before I would mention my parents, a quick tell of where I place myself in my family. Sometimes you discover as much by exclusions as by inclusions. 

But what I have always wished is for my first and immediate response, sans any hesitation, to be that I am beloved of God. Recently, I got the Hebrew word "yediyd" tattooed on my left wrist. It means "beloved." As Much-Afraid took on a new name when she reached the King's Land and sacrificed all for the Great Shepherd, I feel as if I have taken on a new identity in the hands of my Father. And though I stumble and though I fear and though I walk through the valley of the shadow, I need only be reminded that His love is sufficient, my more than enough.

To be delighted in and to take delight in... Father, be the light of my eyes.