Our porch thermometer registered a brisk twenty-six degrees this morning — this first day of spring. The old apple tree is beginning to form tiny buds on its branches, my rose bushes are awakening from their slumber … spring is here, and yet winter lingers with its frosty mornings and oyster gray skies.
As I observed the contrast of two seasons — their merging, their conflict — I thought about my spirit. And yours.
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Lord, I love the power of Your might, and I love the tenderness of Your watch-care over Your children. Your love guards us fiercely. Rise up, O God, and scatter my enemies. They are many and are making life hard.
My enemies aren’t clothed in flesh and blood. They are principalities of darkness that won’t leave me alone. They know just how to trigger fear and upsettedness in me. They know how to make me question everything, how to stir discontentment in my heart.
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Against the backdrop of a dusty, dry desert, a grass-covered pasture graces the outskirts of Bethlehem. It’s known as Shepherd’s Field. Shepherds bring their flocks there to graze and lie down on the lush, tender grass — many shepherds and many flocks at the same time. It’s not hard for an observer to realize the strong heart connection each shepherd has with his sheep amid the noise.
As the sun begins to inch toward the horizon at the closing of the day, each shepherd calls to his sheep. To the observer, there is a cacophony of voices traveling across the hillside. But to the sheep, they hear one voice …
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Lord, many are the afflictions of the righteous, but You promise to deliver us out of them all. You promise to be our shelter in the storm, our refuge, our strong tower we can run into and be safe. Even so, I’m afraid Lord, but I don’t want to be.
Would You draw ever closer and remind me of who I am to You?
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We’ve adopted a stray cat, Emily. She is shaped like a raccoon, walks with a hitch in her left hip, has half of a white mustache on her orange and black shag-rug-from-the-seventies fur. Little did I know this precious, misfit kitty was going to give me a lesson on how to resist Satan.
Birdfeeders outside our window see a flurry of activity, especially in the mornings. An array of birds take turns swooping in for a breakfast treat, singing their merry songs, chattering away the lingering darkness. My heart smiles as I sit quietly to watch.
This morning Emily discovered the birds.
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Lord, I hear You calling my name. I hear You saying, “Come to Me.” But sadly, You often hear me say, “I’m coming Lord … but give me just a minute, okay? I need to finish this first.”
Oh, Lord, please forgive me. How in the world can I put You — the Creator of the Universe — on hold? And how many times have I done this without considering the impact of my choice?
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Sometimes when life is hard and disappointing, it’s hard to understand where God is in the mix — it’s hard to put the spiritual into the physical.
But then along comes King David in the Psalms.
He gives me the tangible reality of God’s presence and the explosive passion for His child in need, especially when life is hard.
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