Blessed be the name of the Lord...
Every window in my house is open today. Even with the buzz of traffic on Jefferson Avenue out front, I love it. For over an hour this morning I could be found out in my back yard, soaking myself in the September breeze and the Word of God. It is a balm to the soul...all that which is God-breathed. The Word. The wind. Creation.
A couple of years ago, I remember walking to the mailbox at the office where I worked. It was late February. A touch of warmth mixed in with the chill in the air, and I heard Him whisper... Spring is coming. I remember drinking in the revelation in the deep parts of my heart that what He promises, He gives. He has been faithful to a thousand generations, and when He says spring is coming, it comes. The cold ebbs away to make room for the warmth. Growth begins. New life happens. I remember this, and I think of the two year olds, in my class at school...twirling, moving, wiggling, singing, discovering. Spring.
And then I think of the sharp, brutal reality of death. Of disease. Of pain. Today as I sat in my back yard, under the bluest of skies, I heard Him whisper again. This time, I felt a touch of chill, mixed in with the warmth. And I heard Him say... Winter is coming. My spirit balks at this. I liked the coming of warmth and life much more than the promised season of cold and fallow ground. But what He promises...He gives. Death must be, so that Life can be. Perhaps embracing the winter can be as beautiful as embracing the spring...when I am trusting that every season flows from His hand. That it is all God-breathed. Even the cold. Even the dying.
His ways are higher than my ways...though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him. The seasons we live through down here are not the seasons of Home. This is a but a moment. A vapor. A dream before the Morning. He gives the spring...and He gives the winter.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
-HK
Psalm 105:8, Job 29:23, Deut 32:39, Job 13:15, Job 1:1, Ecc 3:14, Isa 45:6&7, Matt 10:29&30, Rom 4:17, 1 Pet 1:3
A couple of years ago, I remember walking to the mailbox at the office where I worked. It was late February. A touch of warmth mixed in with the chill in the air, and I heard Him whisper... Spring is coming. I remember drinking in the revelation in the deep parts of my heart that what He promises, He gives. He has been faithful to a thousand generations, and when He says spring is coming, it comes. The cold ebbs away to make room for the warmth. Growth begins. New life happens. I remember this, and I think of the two year olds, in my class at school...twirling, moving, wiggling, singing, discovering. Spring.
And then I think of the sharp, brutal reality of death. Of disease. Of pain. Today as I sat in my back yard, under the bluest of skies, I heard Him whisper again. This time, I felt a touch of chill, mixed in with the warmth. And I heard Him say... Winter is coming. My spirit balks at this. I liked the coming of warmth and life much more than the promised season of cold and fallow ground. But what He promises...He gives. Death must be, so that Life can be. Perhaps embracing the winter can be as beautiful as embracing the spring...when I am trusting that every season flows from His hand. That it is all God-breathed. Even the cold. Even the dying.
His ways are higher than my ways...though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him. The seasons we live through down here are not the seasons of Home. This is a but a moment. A vapor. A dream before the Morning. He gives the spring...and He gives the winter.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
-HK
Psalm 105:8, Job 29:23, Deut 32:39, Job 13:15, Job 1:1, Ecc 3:14, Isa 45:6&7, Matt 10:29&30, Rom 4:17, 1 Pet 1:3
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