The rhythm of life … a grand old maple. God’s message stood stoic before me resting against the hands of time, its grace shadowing the meadow grass with outstretched arms reaching toward heaven.
Winter is coming. Barren landscapes. Cold, harsh winds. Brittle, dead leaves.
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Oh Lord, how excellent is Your Name in all the earth! You are my Refuge and my strength. You are my light in the darkness, my Helper when I am poor in spirit and needy of heart. I know I can depend on You to be my Strong Tower against the enemy.
I know and believe these things, and yet here I am once again calling out to You.
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I stood beneath the pine grove at the crest of the hill. Autumn leaves shimmied on the wings of the wind. Floating. Twirling. Submitting to the authority of the breeze.
Storm clouds pressed eastward leaving an October indigo sky in its wake.
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O Lord, how restless are my thoughts, how troubled is my heart! I’m trying really hard to let the peace of God rule in my heart, but it’s hard.
So very hard.
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My lips smacked together from the dryness of a voracious thirst. I had worked in the yard all afternoon beneath a blazing sun. Rivulets of sweat drenched me, adding to my thirst and need for water.
I came into the cool of the house, filled my glass with ice cubes and cold water, and gulped it down. The first glass made me want more — one glass was not enough. I quickly filled my glass again and practically inhaled the liquid refreshment. What joy as the cold water coursed through my lips and satisfied my thirst.
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