Thin Spaces and Bottled Tears

Celtic Christians have a deep appreciation for nature and coined the term Thin Space . . . those transient, ephemeral moments when suddenly eternity seems to invade time, and heaven touches earth. Yesterday, my morning woods wander was graced with such a Thin Space interlude.

 A brief cloudburst had soaked the forest in the fragrance of damp freshness.  Defiantly pushing up through bare rocks to capture a shaft of sunshine, a solitary Bloodroot plant caught my gaze.

Raindrops clinging to a Bloodroot’s soon to open flower struck me as glistening teardrops, and a favorite comforting verse entered my thoughts:

“You number my wanderings; put my tears in Your bottle; are they not in Your book?” – Psalms 56:8

Heaven alone knows the countless tears my eyes have shed over 8 decades . . .

Repentant tears of heartache from wrong choices made and sinful behaviors that have regretfully hurt others would ashamedly fill volumes, and I choose not to dwell there.

Joyous tears of undeserved blessings and Thin Spaces reassuring me of my Father’s amazing grace . . . just-as-I-am forgiveness . . . and unceasing love for this ole redeemed prodigal son. Attempting to list them here would also fill volumes, but with memories I will forever cherish, a few of which are:

• Tears that filled my eyes with life’s miracle the first time I held one of my six newborn children
• Tears that blurred my vision exchanging “I Do” vows with a woman who, despite my past transgressions and present, oft perplexing behaviors, was still willing commit to walking alongside of me till “… death do us part…”
• Tears that well up whenever I hear the hymn, “It is Well with My Soul”, being sung
• Tears that stir my heart with wonder each time I watch a glorious sunset and sunrise
• Tears that stained my cheeks kneeling besides my mother’s casket, recalling our last visit and the final words of Christian hope and encouragement we spoke to each other . . .

“Later Mom” . . . “Later Freddy”

I like to believe that my Abba collects both my repentant tears of heartache and the joyous tears of undeserved blessings and Thin Spaces in the same bottle.

Someday, when He decides my “Later” moment has arrived, if allowed, I have one last Thin Space wish. I would rejoice being able to take my bottle of mingled tears from His hands, kneel before my Savior, and wash His nailed sacred feet with them.

I M Blessed Beyond Measure . . . May U B 2!

Keep Looking Up ^ . . . His Best is Yet to Come!