Fellowship

He found you like He found me:
Empty and hopeless,
At the end of ourselves,
Lost coins hiding in forgotten corners,
Penniless prodigals stealing slop from hogs.

And He breathed life into our dead lungs,
And overwhelmed our darkness with light,
And built us into a body, a temple,
A kingdom where everyone
Is a priest of the Almighty.

The Kind of Miracle We Overlook

My Hutch-friend Julie wrote a great post about an injury she experienced: Miracle | Greener Trees.

Why do I consistently fail to recognize the healing presence of God in healthy white blood cells, or miraculous mucus, or the very skin that protects my delicate innards?

We don't realize how good things are until they get broken, I guess...