Let me know it fully.
A colleague said this to me today.
During a webinar that he was facilitating.
Let me know it fully.
Not just any breath. But this breath.
Not just any feeling of my fingers on the keyboard. But this feeling of my fingers on the keyboard.
Not just any leftover chicken brought for lunch. But this leftover chicken brought for lunch.
Not just any voices chatting in the hall. But these voices chatting in the hall.
Let me know it fully.
Not just any memory of Caleb resting his head on my stomach. But this memory.
Not just any sound of my kids singing “Circle of Life” while driving down Peachtree. But this sound.
Not just any cool November Monday morning. But this one.
Not just any little piece of unexpected good news. But this little piece.
Not just any surreal moment of receiving bad news. But this surreal moment.
Not just any feeling of bowing to the rhythm of the universe. But this feeling of bowing.
Let me know it fully.
Not just any deep knowing of what the psalmist meant when he wrote, “my cup overflows.” But this deep knowing.