A swoosh of black and gray feathers darted from the apple tree to the birdhouse nailed to my grape arbor. The chickadee twitched with excitement as she crawled through the circular opening and back out again, exploring her new dwelling place.
From the perch she flew to another branch, hopped across two or three others and swooped back to the birdhouse, again twitching with hyperactivity.
And … repeat.
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Lord, how gracious You are. You are full of compassion, cloaked in goodness. You are the Great I AM — all that we could ever need. Even when we’re tired on the inside, You understand and help us muster up some joy.
I could use a belly laugh, Lord — the rolling on the floor, happy tears streaming down my cheeks, losing my breath kind of belly laugh. Oh, how fun!
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Out of the blue, my spirit began to sing — not out loud, but like the still, small voice of the Lord, When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll. Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, “It is well … it is well with my soul.”
I zeroed in on “peace like a river ATTENDETH my way.”
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Lord, You are Wonderful, Counselor, Almighty God, Everlasting Father, and my Prince of Peace. You are who You say You are. You do what You say You will do. I’m believing You for supernatural downpours, but I can’t even see a cloud on the horizon.
It’s so hard — this walking by faith and not by sight. There are days I can believe You for anything without reservation, but then … then there are days that hope wiggles out of the broken crevices in my heart and tears drip into a soggy mess.
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The ice storm roared into our mountain community with blinding sleet and freezing rain. Cold air chilling the bone swirled in the mighty wind.
Friday morning we awoke to a crystalline world — everything coated in ice. Branches bowed beneath the weight, icicles hung in the rain’s attempt to defeat the demanding cold.
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Lord, You are my sure place, my refuge in the storm, my anchor that holds. How amazing is this Truth! When all around me is shifting sand, I can stand because You are my Rock.
I cling to Your faithfulness in these perilous days. On Your Rock I am high and lifted up, high above the enemy of my soul. When things I have relied on have become as shifting sand, I look to You. — I hear You call my name.
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I walked along the river’s edge. Moss-laden boulders jutted out from the rich, fertile soil. Patches of snow still refused to melt beneath their shadows, sheltered from the winter sun.
Just ahead, a large tree grew along the river’s edge. It clung to the soil of the bank, but as I got closer, I realized many of its massive roots extended into the river itself. Soil had washed away over the years, but still it clung to is source of living — the river.
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