Come See

Squirrel

Often Dad would say, “Come here, Mart.  I want to show you something.”  It was seldom anything spectacular.  Sometimes it was a diamond-sparkle in the snow, a squirrel cutting an acorn, or an unfolding yellow rose.

When I was a child his call to come see would seem an interruption of play or of watching a TV cartoon, but as I grew older those quiet calls to come aside to see turned into treasured moments that we shared. 

Often, You call me aside saying,
“Come see, Martha. I want to show you something.”
No, it’s not an audible voice, just a quiet sense of Your nearness.
When I take time to stop what I am doing, perhaps make a cup a coffee and find a quiet place to open Your Word,
I often find small delights,
glimpses of encouragement for my day,
treasured moments with You.

Martha Hawn VanCise ©2014 www.signpostsonhightrails.com

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