The aged apple tree stretched toward the heavens with its thin, finger-like branches. It grew on the forest’s edge surrounded by pine, oak, and hemlocks — growing despite its conditions, which was quite obviously a happenstance, a surprise to its forest shadows … a reflection of God’s goodness and grace.
And now, as autumn has its last hoorah before winter’s chill, my eye saw something new …
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Father, You have taught me to say, “It is well with my soul,” regardless of what I am facing. Life is hard, but You are good. You are faithful and true. When I look to You, You turn my mourning, my sorrow, and my despair into joyful dancing before You. My heart becomes filled with praise — not because of my circumstances, but because of Your abiding presence.
Please forgive me for when I allow the difficult places to consume me, and I give them all my attention. I quickly become overwhelmed, submerged below the murky darkness they create. You have made a way for me to be free from the chains that bind me. You promise to give me beauty for my ashes, and praise instead of despair.
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Autumn reds have transformed into deepest burgundy velvet; lemon yellows now reflect burnished gold. Stark branches stretch towards the heavens and yield their transition into winter to the hands of their Creator, the Lord our God.
I picked up my steps as I rounded the curve along our country road. A strong north wind watered my eyes and blushed my cheeks. But my thoughts turned towards Jesus and His unfailing love and especially towards His mercy, new every morning …
Especially His mercy, new every morning.
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Father, I consider the works of Your hands and I am struck with wonder and awe. May I never take Your magnificence for granted or try to limit You through my own understanding. You are great, O Lord! There is no one else like You in heaven or on earth. My heart longs for You, it yearns to know Your mysteries and desires to rest in Your love without hesitation.
I’m astounded that, not only do You know my name, but You call me daughter. I don’t deserve Your steadfast love, and yet You lavish it upon me. I want to know You more, Lord. I want to respond to Your delicate whispers without hesitation … I want to honor You with my life.
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I’m sitting at my desk looking out at the broken forest behind our home. The marks of Helene’s savage assault still linger. Trees are fully uprooted. Broken limbs dangle, some split in two. Many trees have fallen into the tree beside them, with branches bare and stark in the November sun. I’m reminded of America in the wake of this election season.
Personally, I’m pleased with the results … my candidate won. But my heart is sad and troubled for those whose candidate lost. This battle was like no other, and its ramifications will be felt for many years.
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Father, the days are tumultuous, uncertain, and ripe with harsh regard for one another. Forgive us, Lord. Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me. As Your children, we are called to be Christ-bearers — we are called to be the hands and feet of Jesus … we are called to represent Him well.
And not ourselves.
This often requires dying to self, disregarding the need to be right, and the need to have our opinions heard. But I’m reminded that You reveal Truth because You are Truth.
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There is something glorious about the tender watch-care of the Lord our God. He is ever watchful, vigilant, and personal as He oversees His struggling child. He draws near and speaks life into our troubled hearts.
A heart consumed with fear.
A heart overwhelmed by hopelessness.
A heart broken through betrayal and rejection.
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