I rounded the curve along the meadow’s edge, pressing into the blustery breeze. Dark clouds hovered overhead as treetops swayed to the rhythm of the wind. Rain was coming.
I pulled the collar of my jacket a little tighter.
Sometimes a girl just has to press in, keep one foot stepping in front of the other, and move forward.
Even when it’s difficult.
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Lord, You search my heart and know all of my anxious thoughts, restless thoughts — thoughts that are not of You. Some days I’m just a mess. But deep inside, way down in my heart, I yearn to be holy as You are holy. Will You make me holy as You said? Will You transform me into the likeness of Christ?
Lord, You search my heart and know all of my anxious thoughts, restless thoughts — thoughts that are not of You. Some days I’m just a mess. But deep inside, way down in my heart, I yearn to be holy as You are holy. Will You make me holy as You said? Will You transform me into the likeness of Christ?
But those pruning sheers!
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A songbird perched in the stark branches of the old apple tree, winter still clinging, branches still bare. Her melody rang across the frost-laden earth, warming the atmosphere. A golden halo of sunrise lit up the crest of our mountain ridge with an amber glow and slowly spread across the forest, down the slope and grazed the top of the apple tree — the delicate light illuminating her feathers.
Light and song.
Winter awaiting spring.
For surely spring will come, hope will rebound across this land.
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Lord, You are my light in the darkness, my song in the night. You are my shield God, but that flaming arrow that grazed me hurt.
I don’t know how it got past Your protection, but it did.
Oh wait …
I forgot to put on my armor today.
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Change is coming. It’s inevitable. Some change brings hope, like the budding on our apple tree. But some change brings fear — fear of the unknown, fear of the difficult, fear of the challenge.
As I watch the cardinal and sparrow at my birdfeeder, the chickadees flitting in and out, I wonder … I wonder how they live in the now so beautifully, how they keep on singing, how they hop from branch to branch incessantly with apparent glee as they wait for their turn at the feeder.
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