The kids are taking late naps after our long field-trip day out, and the house is quiet when I walk past the living room and notice our cream curtains are glowing pink.
Like really, truly, PINK! 

I knew something lovely was on full display behind them, so I set down the load in my arms to go find out.  Pulling them back, I see the most breathtaking sunset I’ve noticed in a good long while.

Hot pink and deep purple were lighting up the wintry horizon in spectacular fashion.
My heart welled at the sight of that glorious display of splendor–welled right up to overflowing and without hesitation, I immediately knew two things– 

I had to get closer and I had to share it with someone. 

I called softly to the kids upstairs to see who was actually up from naps, and it was my sweet 4 year old who answered back.  
Yeah, Mom?  
Hunny, I called quietly, you have to come down here–quick!  I was grabbing coats and shoes as fast as I could.
What is it Mom? he asks.
Something too good not to share! I think, and when he turns the corner of the steps I hurry him to the window and tell him to peek behind the curtains. Just take a peek, I tell him.

He grins and looks up at me, curious what I’m up to.
Then pulling them back, he giggles as he takes it in. 

His green eyes glow with wonder.
Wow, he whispers.

I know.  Now come on, let’s go out!
Really? he starts to ask, but I’m pushing shoes on his feet already.
Half-bundled, but with camera in hand, we tumble out into the cold to wonder together, and to share this lovely, but quickly-passing moment.

He shimmies up the clubhouse ladder, careful not to slip on the ice covering the wooden platform.
I shimmy up after him, too big to be up there but not caring.
Camera ready, I snap a few pictures, because I know I’ll want to remember this, and share it again with someone else.
My boy tucks his hand in mine, and together, we drink that sunset in.

In four short minutes the sky-painting had melted into a puddled canvas of fading color behind the trees and was gone.

We climbed back down and crunched across the icy grass towards the back door, reluctant to give the day up, but feeling a sense of satisfaction that we got to embrace those last fleeting moments of beauty together. 

And I stopped, just before going back inside–I stopped and wondered, what kind of sunrise did I miss today?  And how many other sky-displays have I missed because I haven’t cared to notice? Precious gifts lost, opportunities wasted.

And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to miss His glory.

I want to seek the Lord while He may be found.  
I long to dwell daily in His presence.  To be changed by His glory.  

There is something supernatural that happens when we are drawn by grace right up close to the goodness of our God.  When Moses cried, “show me Your glory” he was changed. Time and time again, after meeting with the Lord, he would walk away from the experience with a face aglow.  

Have we been thus changed?

Have I been so radically saved and transformed?  Am I so deeply thankful that I cannot help but share it with others?

Do I glow, even a little?

Am I sharing this too-good-to-keep-to-myself gift?

I’m not talking about sharing that comes only from a sense of duty and obedience, but that which flows from an overflowing desire and urgent longing to share the “good news” of the love of God with a world who is dying from its lack.  

We can’t fake it, friends.  We are either changed or we’re not.

Christ in us compels.
Remember what Peter and John said about sharing the gospel of Christ in Acts 4? 

“We are unable to stop speaking about what we have seen and heard!”

Am I sharing because HIS LOVE is just too good not to share?  As Paul was so heavenly compelled in 1 Cor. 9:16–does it actually grieve me not to “preach the gospel?”

Yes Lord, that’s the heart I want, I think as I tuck children in bed for the night.

And just before my own head hit the pillow, I pull back my bedside curtains to take another peek up at the heavens, now glittered with a host of twinkling stars, and I think, if those stars are unashamedly declaring His glory, night after night, never stopping–why aren’t I?  

Let’s ask His Spirit to fill ours so we can wisely “make the most of every opportunity” (Eph. 5:16, Col. 4:5).  So we can always “be ready, in season and out,” to “give an account for the hope that is within” us.  
Ultimately, this is a prayer for more.  We need to be filled to flow.  
More grace. More mercy. More love.  

I’m holding up these empty hands in the darkness, smiling cause I just can’t help it, and asking, Fill me up, Lord!  Fill me right up to overflowing, if you please!  

Open my eyes to see Your glory.

I don’t want to miss {sharing} one gift.