A dark cloud approached on the horizon — a deep charcoal, threatening cloud signaling a storm with significant rain and fierce winds. The gray veil of the beginning drizzle began to settle over the mountain valley as the wind began its assault.
I sipped my coffee as I watched the sultry clouds deepen over the ridge.
I closed my eyes against the forceful fears of the Coronavirus, the racial unrest, and the threat of America becoming a nation I don’t recognize. Quietly I spoke, “Jesus … Jesus … ”
There really is something about that Name.
Sunlight blazed from the summer sky filling the earth with heaven’s light. Blue and I walked along our country road — Blue sniffing out critters, me whispering prayers and finding refuge beneath my Father’s wing.
The Spirit of God made His Presence known all about me as the gentle breeze whispered through the pines.
Bless her heart. She was a haggard little thing. Feathers were askew, falling out, barely hanging on. Molting? Maybe. I’m not sure. What I am sure of is how she spoke to me this morning. My family had endured a direct and deadly hit from the enemy that nearly destroyed us. I could relate to this wren’s haggard appearance.
“The voice of the Spirit is as gentle as a zephyr, so gentle that unless you are living in perfect communion with God, you never hear it. The checks of the Spirit come in the most extraordinary gentle way, and if you are not sensitive enough to detect His voice you will quench it, and your personal spiritual life will be impaired. His checks always come as a still small voice, so small that no one but the disciple notices them.” ~ Oswald Chambers
From the corner of my eye I saw a flash of rich, intense sapphire blue. It was an indigo bunting! His gorgeous blue feathers glistened in the sunlight, reflecting the radiance of His Creator.
As I often do, I turned my thoughts toward the Lord while I pondered this marvelous bird … waiting … listening to see if the Lord had a lesson for me.
Hope lives in the scraggly branches reaching toward the winter blue sky. Skeletons of life waiting. Knowing. Knowing that come spring, life will begin anew.
The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside the still waters.
He leads me in paths of righteousness.
He leads me in the ways of peace.
But sometimes …
My index finger pressed against the power button. My head plopped back finding comfort in the sofa cushion as I sought a few moments of relaxation.
The TV came to life. Breaking News lit up the screen causing me to sit upright as my jaw dropped in horror. America had suffered another mass shooting. How could this be? How can the darkness of evil be oozing across our land at such a rapid rate? How do we wrap our minds around the terror that is gripping the world?
I sat along the river’s edge beneath the shade of a willow leaning precariously across the water smooth as glass. The glint of sunshine twinkled and skipped as the river coursed through the mountain gorge carrying my thoughts with its never-ending flow.
I thought about God.
I thought about life’s twists and turns, its burdens heavy, its forward motion sure and constant as it stumbles across debris that clutters the heart.