Jesus, you are the feeling of lying on a boat under the sun on Memorial Day, a fresh Capri-Sun in your hand and the taste of oranges on your lips.
You are climbing into bed after the most exhausting of days, the way the blanket welcomes you in like a mother with a gentle hug, how sleep cradles you into rest, how dreams tickle you hello.
Jesus, you’re the freedom of dancing in circles, knowing when you fall the grass will catch you and the clouds will spin along with you.
You’re sitting across the table from someone you love so much your stomach hurts, and that feeling in your chest as you watch them eat and wonder how slurping spaghetti could look so perfect.
You’re my mom’s arm stretching out in front of me every time we slam on the brakes, that strength that keeps me safe in the face of possible calamity.
Jesus, you’re the warmth of my cat curling up beside me like I’m the only person in the world she wants to sit with.
You’re a fresh cup of coffee that wakes my brain up and dries the foggy corners of my mind, how morning can feel like a fresh start, the way a coffee shop can feel like a separate universe where you’re allowed to slow down and breathe for a moment.
Jesus, you’re everything good that ever was or ever will be. You’re creation itself, you’re the sun in all its splendor and the moon in all its beauty and the wind in all its might.
You are everything good that ever was or ever will be. Help me remember that creation is in you, goodness is in you. It is all you.