When he shuffles into the kitchen groggy and sick, to say goodnight to you and hug you and you hug him back and hold each other long and he whispers how he wishes he could give you everything your heart desires and you close your eyes and let it all be as it is, with the Clorox Disinfecting Wipe in one hand, and with life smeared all over the kitchen counters and table and floor, and you know in your heart that you do have everything you could want already and you whisper back, "I have you", and this does good things for your soul, a recounting of lavish grace, a remembering of the important stuff.
When you go to bed soul-filled and satisfied and also aching because you know people who hurt right now, people in crisis right now, people who are lost, people who are found in the trenches of crazy realities and it doesn't make sense to the untrained eye.
But you know deeper than deep that the mysteries of life are tucked deeper than deep in the heart of a God who determined to be Rescuer.
