And Yet, Let the Trees of the Field Clap Their Hands

And Yet, Let the Trees of the Field Clap Their Hands

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Trees waved their branches frantically in the ferocious wind. Bending. Breaking. Swirling, as it were, as the wind constantly changed directions. My forsythia bushes had clawed at my window while in Helene’s clutches. Scraping. Grinding. This image is stamped on my mind.

Each time I look out of my window — the one placed by my morning sanctuary where I sip my coffee and ponder the love of Jesus — that window … I look and remember that terrifying day when Helene stormed through our precious mountains and the enemy stole peace from my heart.

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Great is Your Faithfulness to Me, O Lord. You Never Fail

Great is Your Faithfulness to Me, O Lord. You Never Fail

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Father, You are my firm foundation, the Rock on which I stand. When everything around me is sinking sand, You are my sure place. You remain. Great is Your faithfulness to me, O Lord … yes, great is Your faithfulness.

Over the years, You have proven Yourself to me. Time and time again You have made Yourself known to my seeking heart. You incine Your ear to me and hear my cries. I picture You bending Your knee to press in close so my whispered overwhelm can be heard.

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Hurricane Helene Startled Me Into Whimpers of Screams

Hurricane Helene Startled Me Into Whimpers of Screams

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The long, slender branches of our forsythia bushes whipped against the windowpane as torrents of rain battered our home. The horrifying sound of trees crashing throughout our forest startled me into whimpers of screams. Power lines snapped like toothpicks as our home grew dark and fear began to seep in. Hurricane Helene had arrived.

She was a beast. She was terrifying.

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I Considered the Heavens and The Hands that Made Them

I Considered the Heavens and The Hands that Made Them

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Brushstrokes of lavender and orange cream swabbed the evening sky as another day lowered its eyelids. Deep shades of purple and navy rolled in like a wave. The luminous brushstrokes rode the wave back out to an ebony-colored sea of night. The stars appeared. I considered the heavens and the Hands that made them.

And I thought of Job.

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Your Grace is Sufficient, Lord, So Why Do I Struggle?

Your Grace is Sufficient, Lord, So Why Do I Struggle?

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Father, You are wonderful beyond comprehension. Your goodness and mercy follow me all the days of my life. I know that I know Your grace is sufficient, it is more than enough for anything I may face. So, why do I struggle? Why do I insist on fighting my own battles when You clearly are my Defender? You have never failed me … and I know You never will.

The things I don’t want to do, I do. The things I do want to do, I don’t. Oy! This battle of flesh and spirit is strong. Purify my heart and renew a right spirit within me.

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Life Punctuated With Many Trials … God Heard My Cry

Life Punctuated With Many Trials … God Heard My Cry

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I pressed my hand against the cool windowpane, rivulets of raindrops coursing down the glass. I saw the image of my own tears reflected in the raindrops. The week had been difficult, punctuated with many trials. My spirit grew weak by the onslaught of the enemy and despair began to set in.

Even though I know better.

Even though I know the Lord is faithful to deliver His children from the flames of adverstity.

Despair was seeping in.

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