Spaces are needful things. Margins. Breathing room. Anna and I gaze at the words on her page, tracing the lines, looking at the spaces between symbols. Callow calligraphy. She needs the spaces.
The children are growing and it seems more and more of an effort to fit into our space. I feel crowded, physically and emotionally. “Stuff” is the American obsession and I am not immune. So I am paring and purging on my mission of margin.
But I am storing up as well. Laying up treasure in heaven where His word abides forever. His refrain is a sentinel for my soul: “I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you.”
Memorizing Colossians is changing me–causing me to love Him more. He reconciled me to Himself (unfathomable!). He made peace by the blood of His cross (such severe mercy). The images are being carved into my heart–His burden of vindicated justice. Heavy with the weight of the cross bar, He stumbles. He cannot carry it, but He carries me. He refuses the gall, but drinks the wrath for me.
No, I don’t need to fill up my closets, my cupboards. I need to fill up with Him.