The rushing wind swept through the treetops like the sound of crashing waves, its power witnessed in the bending of branches and the tousling of the leaves. Yet I found myself in stillness. Far below the forest canopy, I walked in a broad patch of sunshine without the slightest breeze.
In fact, I knew the rushing wind was present only because I heard its whistle and saw its effects above me.
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Lord, You are great and greatly to be praised. You are the precious Lamb of God, slain for me so that I might live for all of eternity with You.
May I never take You for granted. May I never be so self-absorbed that I fail to see You in my difficult places.
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I crossed the threshold of the country road — that place where pavement meets gravel and dirt. Several hemlocks grew on the slope just to the right of the road. They were old. Tall. Bountiful. But here and there branches bared themselves and the lush of its evergreen.
Beneath the massive trees lay several broken, dead branches — victims of the storm from the day before. I stood and considered the carnage littering the ground.
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Lord, You are my light and my salvation, the Rock on which I stand. You are my strength, my peace … You are my joy, Lord.
I understand there is a difference between happiness and joy. I understand happiness is superficial — circumstantial — and that joy remains steadfast, deep within me because it is born of Your presence.
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The blush of dawn unfurled like a delicate rose. Layer upon layer of darkness rolled away, yielding — bowing — to the morning light. Lavender and teal, tangerine and coral swirled together on the canvas of the sky — a palette of exquisite colors proclaiming glory to the Lord, the stillness of a new day echoing the holy hush.
With the unfurling of the morning sky came an exuberant song of praise.
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Lord, whenever I am afraid, I will trust in You. When I don’t know what to do, I will look to You. You are my help. You are my strength and my song. My hope is found in You.
As the cares of this world multiply, they are eating at me. I listen for Your gentle whisper, but it’s hard to hear over the noise. I seek You and lean into Your embrace, but the shadows seem darker. I need to hear Your voice, Lord.
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The morning light felt gentle and warm against my troubled spirit. I sat on the porch sipping my coffee, Bible in my lap, birdsong soothing my restless thoughts. I routinely seek refuge on my porch where peace settles over me — where I find contentment that often goes rogue.
“Speak to me through Your Word, Lord. I’m listening,” I prayed.
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