Time stood still.  The sun was a fading orange, fading in the distant horizon.  The evening air was warm with a gentle breeze.  The green of the leaves and grass complimented the blue and orange than pink sky.  Through my sandals I could feel the texture of the now faded driveway.  Mom waited as we walked, together.  Matthew and Hope were looking for their bike and scooter, but were disappointed that they were still in the garage.  Dad waited patiently with William in his stroller by the gate.  I could see him leaning on the iron and stretching.

As we walked, the sounds of the birds and bugs and even the cars in the distance slowly muted.  The kids run to catch up with their GeeDee moved in slower motion, frame by frame.  I took out my phone and took a picture, as my mind froze time and space.  This savoring of moment, this relishing of memory captured live was intensely heightened.  I could not help but think again to where we were just the day before, half a world away in Lourdes.  And I could not but receive the calming peace that came with it.  Whether I am still riding high the surge of emotion from our trip, or whether it was the Holy Spirit itself washing over me the words drifted from my lips.  “My Lord and my God.”

It may fade, this feeling.  This euphoria.  But here, and now I see with a renewed lens.  I experience and taste this day, this daily bread with a clean palette.

“Behold, I make all things new.” – Revelation 21:5