For months now I slip away on Saturday mornings. We all know this Saturday routine. Clint with the girls and I take off. Usually just an hour, maybe two. It is precious.
In Princeton I went to the same place, ordered the same thing, sat in the same seat and enjoyed. I'm still trying out places here in Christchurch.
I usually find a coffee shop with a little corner seat by the window. Sometimes I land in a couch, sometimes at a table. I always pull out my journal. Sometimes I'll read for a bit, often times not. I sit, I listen. Every time God has met me. Spoken words - always love, always true to who I know he is through his word. Words that sustain me throughout the week.
Then today we gathered with others. All in awe of the God we worship. I love this. I know that a building is not where many aspects of "church" happen, but I do love it - the coming together and feeling strength, grace, knowing truth, building each other up. It is amazing.
Today is beautiful, we lounged around while Iris slept. Went up and trekked through the port hills when she woke up. Ate dinner outside. Casually got the girls ready for bed. We were outside as much as possible. This, too, is very much so sabbath.
And I'm thankful for rest, for truth, for the gathering, for a God who speaks and is real.