I really wanted to hug you today. You know, like we used to do every morning, sort of like waking up together in heaven with a new life to share and ever so willing to do so. But, today I was too busy, had things to do. Not important things, but things that filled my life with that cushion called routine. With my routine, I can live anywhere and almost under any circumstance.
My routine can displace not only our time together, but the very reason to be together. That reciprocating flow of safe is so easily replaced with movement, sound, intentions, gathering, and even rest.
Then in a moment, I think you are gone and I am faced with the fact that the reason for any one of those things was your hug. Your ability to see me as all you needed and the desire to rest in what we had was the rest that energized every other activity.
Jesus, I give you permission to be most insistent and vocal about your desire for a hug. After all, you create them for one purpose. I am that purpose.