Soft rays of sunlight began to filter through the leaves of the old apple tree while most of the earth still lay in the shadow of night. Birdsong began to awaken with the dawn and my spirit began to stir. Morning light always speaks to my soul.
Morning light is delicate in nature, yet forceful in its breakthrough. Intentional. Its presence transforms and renews as it permeates the darkness, morning after morning … without fail.
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Father, You are mighty in power, doing wonders — You are sovereign over all the earth. And yet, You love me. You watch over me … You are a very present help in trouble.
Thank You, Lord.
I have placed my hope in You because You have proven Your faithfulness to me repeatedly.
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I knew if I could make it to the top of the ridge, the difficult climb would be worth it. The magnificent vista below would be my reward. Scattered stones caused my feet to slip a few times, and brambles snagged my pants leg with their occasional bite …
But I pressed on.
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Father, You promise to hold us by the right hand and lead us in Your paths of righteousness — to be our Helper, the Keeper of our souls. I desire to overcome evil with good as You have instructed us, but it’s hard.
If my enemy is hungry, You want me to feed him.
If my enemy is thirsty, You want me to give him a drink.
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It rained last night. Long and hard. I noticed the birdseed in the tray outside my window saturated by heaven’s rain. In the dark of night, it poured, satisfying a thirsty earth and soaking the seeds with goodness.
God’s grace is like this. He draws close in the dark night of the soul and rains down upon His hurting child, saturating our hearts with reminders — with notes — of His love.
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