As a child I remember lying on my parents bed for what seemed like hours on end. I’d squint and make shapes with the dots on the ceiling, then close my eyes and focus on the tiny reverberations in my body; like I was creating a little earthquake with the minute movements.
They were those shudders you look for in your loved one laying in the casket-like the quiver of the lip, the lifting of an eyelid or the shaking of a hand when it has been held in the air for a long time.
We all create earthquakes- it’s part of being alive.
To this day I will wake up in the middle of the night when everything is silent and concentrate on the reverberations. When God is speaking to me, I am more aware of the earthquakes I create.
The rumble when I touch someone I love-
The quiver when I try something new-
The shudder when I realize I am not at the center of the world, but at the cracking fault line- where sin shifted the sands of God’s perfect Eden.
He reached his arms down from heaven and encompassed us in that garden, then at the cross. Then He sent The Comforter as an eternal heart shawl- to enclose and soothe- the always-warmth in a world of ice where death formed a ghostly skeleton holding a scythe.
He shook up this broken world. My God, the earthquake maker.
