Back in the Covid days, when it became clear that things were going to be, um, "disrupted" for more than two weeks, my husband (likely tired of me yelling from the basement, "I AM RECORDING A SERMON, NO ONE WALK UPSTAIRS OR MAKE ANY NOISE FOR THE NEXT 30 MINUTES!!") turned the old ramshackle shed in our yard into an office space. He thought it would take "two weekends" to be completed; it took about 6 months. But hey, luckily we were still in lockdown! And it is still a favorite work spot for both of us today - it's quiet, and has no distractions, perfect for Zoom meetings, sermon writing, and general focus time. 

Earlier this week, I noticed a few baby bunnies hoping out from under The Shed, as we call it, to nibble on some new grass, and then quickly scooting back under. A smart mama rabbit must have built a nest under there (William, if you're reading this, no you aren't) to keep her little fluffs warm, safe, and dry. As I stood and soaked in their cuteness, it occurred to me that there was something of God in that little moment.

What started as a desperate scramble for a quiet place to work turned into a sacred space—not just for work, but for slowing down. For noticing. For glimpsing tiny miracles like baby bunnies chewing on new grass in the spring sunlight. And not just a sacred space for us, but for other creatures as well. A space of safety and refuge in a world that can probably be a little scary for baby bunnies and other tender critters.

The Shed was born out of frustration, built during a season none of us would have chosen. And yet, here it stands, a reminder that sometimes helpful and lasting things can come from the wreckage of our plans. As we continue in this Easter season, it was a sweet little reminder for me that God can show up like that - as blessings in the middle of chaos, weaving goodness through inconvenience, showing up in unexpected places. Even hidden under work sheds in the form of baby bunnies. And possibly hidden in us, too.

My prayer for you this week is to find God in the middle of all of it - the joyful blessings, the mess, even in the pain. Especially there. My prayer is that you remember you are never without a miracle around the corner. (Or under the shed, as the case may be.)

Blessings,
Jennifer