I stood beneath the pine grove at the crest of the hill. Autumn leaves shimmied on the wings of the wind. Floating. Twirling. Submitting to the authority of the breeze.
Storm clouds pressed eastward leaving an October indigo sky in its wake.
I closed my eyes.
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Lord, return me to a place of peace. Forgive me for stepping out of Your peace, for it is available to me always. You, Lord, remain faithful. But I shift my focus and my thoughts on the obstacles and difficult places — I choose to fret — and soon forget that You are the Great God, Ruler of all things.
You teach us to trust You, to know that our relationship with You is founded in great love — a love that surpasses all understanding.
Therefore, trust can be and should be a natural response.
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Huddled beneath the covers wishing the morning away, I recognized His sweet whisper, “I am for you, not against you. You are my child. You have not been forsaken.” I squeezed my eyes and scrunched up my face because, although I believed what the Lord was speaking to me, my reality felt very different.
I felt alone in many ways.
I definitely felt overwhelmed. Heavy-laden. Crumpling beneath life’s burdens.
But again, He said, “I am for you, not against you.”
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Lord, I’m so thankful for Your mighty power that moves mountains for me, that guards me fiercely in the battles, that parts the Red Sea when I would otherwise drown. You are mighty!
And Your love is steadfast and true.
I depend on the strength of Your love. Thank You.
Sometimes I feel like I don’t have the strength to take another step. The battles rage around me — fiery darts bouncing loudly off my shield of faith, my legs bogged down with the weight pressing against my shoulders.
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The morning dew lay heavy upon the grass, glistening drops of refreshment clinging to each blade. In each tiny globe of moisture, the light of a new day reflected like glitter scattered across the field.
I thought of how the dew was formed — the warm air rising from the earth clashing with the cooler air of descending darkness.
I thought of the juxtaposition of one season to another — the warmth of summer wrestling with the chill of fall much like the dark of night softens to morning light.
And I thought of God’s grace — His mercies new every morning, especially it seems, in the clash of life’s seasons, the juxtapositions that challenge our faith.
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Lord, You are the great God,mighty and true. All of Your ways are perfect. All of Your ways are righteous and just. You are the God of Truth.
There is so much deception permeating our world. It clutters our minds and veils our knowledge of You and Your ways. May it never be, Lord!
Stir within us the gift of discernment that we might walk sure in Your ways. Keep our feet on the path of truth — our eyes on You, our ears open to Your voice of instruction.
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Matthew took my hand and hoisted me onto the boulder at the top of the ridge. From the heights we could see the path curling like a ribbon on its way up the mountain slope. It wound its way around fallen logs and through thickets of painful briers.
The forest sheltered portions of the path from the blazing sun, its shade providing respite along the steep climb. I thought of the moss-laden stones sprinkled like emeralds and the patches of wild flowers — oh! the flowers — dotting the hillside with crimson and gold.
Far above this glorious sight, looking perhaps from a smidgen of God’s perspective, I could see the beauty of it all.
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