But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ,
The numbers on the digital clock in our bedroom glowed in the pre-dawn darkness.
I awoke to a sound coming from the living room. A rustling. A movement.
I jumped to the door, swinging it open. And there he crouched.
5 of 8. Caught. Pilfering beneath the Christmas tree.
I sent him upstairs, telling him he must sleep for a while longer before we would beginning opening gifts on Christmas morning.
A little before 7 am he was back downstairs, standing over my bed, asking me if it was time yet. He was excited and eager to begin the day.
Later, 3 of 8 told me that 5 had been up since 3am, sitting on the edge of his bed, the anticipation of the day keeping sleep from him. The promise of the holiday loomed larger than the time signature on the clocks in the house.
What if I sought the presence of the Lord like that? What if I looked for His return with the same kind of vigor? What if I searched for the sureness of His promises with the same kind of heart that keeps a 9 year old awake in the night?
What if I allowed myself to get giddy over the gift of grace?