Yesterday we had one of those cold, windy all day rains that, for me, always mark the end of Fall. It was a beautiful day, though. The season's oranges, yellows, and reds vividly popped out against the gray sky.
Everywhere I went, people grumbled about the weather. Except for Jeanie. I sat at her kitchen table with her looking outside, and she said: "I've always loved days like this. My husband and I often would head out with our cameras on days like this. It's so beautiful."
She could see what so many could not.
God's love is like that: a bright spot of hope in the midst of life's storms for those who (as Scripture says) "have eyes to see".
Lord, give me an open heart to see you everywhere. Mother Teresa
Friday, November 5, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
An act of hope
Yesterday I began planting spring bulbs. I read recently that to do so is the ultimate act of hope. Into the darkness of the earth I placed each bulb nestling it into a cocoon of anti-squirrel/vole soil conditioner with a sprinkling of fertilizer. I re-covered them with soil and watered them.
Now I wait until the sun's rays lengthen and warmth returns to the northern hemisphere.
This morning, I questioned myself: Did you plant them deep enough? Did you add the proper amount of nutrient -- not too much or too little? Will the bulbs blossom and fill my garden with red and yellow, pink and lavender? Did you do enough?
Today's Psalm reads: "The Lord is my light and my salvation, of whom shall I be afraid?" I've been meditating on the Lord as my light that illumines the path, shines into the darkness of discouragement, warms my heart and encourages growth, and quiets every nagging worry.
Some days I ask myself: Where is the light today? I can't see the way. Why does my heart feel so cold? Where is the warmth of God's love? Will this or that in my life resolve happpily?
Just like with the bulbs placed into the earth, my soul must wait on the Lord. I must put my trust in him in pleasant weather and during the storms, during the daylight and the night.
Too often the only person I trust is me.
Long experience testifies to the foolishness of that choice.
Now I wait until the sun's rays lengthen and warmth returns to the northern hemisphere.
This morning, I questioned myself: Did you plant them deep enough? Did you add the proper amount of nutrient -- not too much or too little? Will the bulbs blossom and fill my garden with red and yellow, pink and lavender? Did you do enough?
Today's Psalm reads: "The Lord is my light and my salvation, of whom shall I be afraid?" I've been meditating on the Lord as my light that illumines the path, shines into the darkness of discouragement, warms my heart and encourages growth, and quiets every nagging worry.
Some days I ask myself: Where is the light today? I can't see the way. Why does my heart feel so cold? Where is the warmth of God's love? Will this or that in my life resolve happpily?
Just like with the bulbs placed into the earth, my soul must wait on the Lord. I must put my trust in him in pleasant weather and during the storms, during the daylight and the night.
Too often the only person I trust is me.
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