You heavens above, rain down my righteousness; let the clouds shower it down. Let the earth open wide, let salvation spring up, let righteousness flourish with it; I, the LORD, have created it.
Rain pouring down hard wakes us easy and slow this morning. Air is cool and damp. Everything looks gray.
When it subsides I head out to pull weeds taking advantage of soil watered which makes it easy. I walk the weed pile to the edge of the wood that borders our home. Make the trip a few times.
Blue jays noisy remind me of summer mornings playing on the porch with the Talmadge kids, city street where we grew up noisy, too. And of how much I don’t like the sound of jays jeering.
But something feels different this morning and even the jays don’t bother me much.
My toes get wet from the grass and it feels like I am walking through a gift.
Because it is a gift.
…like the light of morning at sunrise on a cloudless morning, like the brightness after rain that brings grass from the earth.
2 Samuel 23:4
His gift of this earth in our backyard calls to me softly, easy to miss lest I am mindful. He nudges me to open my eyes and see the colors, hear the sounds of morning, feel the Father’s gentle hand upon my heart. Using the senses He gave me He draws me to Himself out here in this wonder-filled creation on half an acre.
Loving me in and through and with all this glory.
And then like a whispered thought from long ago a latent gift emerges that I have seen a thousand times before yet never really seeing.
Years ago, as a struggling single mom raising three boys on a nursery school teacher salary and child support, I longed to plant a row of wildflowers along the wood line. But I never got around to it, never could afford such a luxury.
And then I forgot about that desire of my heart until this morning with mercies new and Him never forgetting anything that pertains to me and you except our sins.
Where I once dreamed of black eyed Susans, daisies, baby’s breath and maybe purple lupine or white yarrow, I see a profusion of tiny, gold-centered blossoms edging the green of the trees and drawing to themselves bees and beetles and ants and me.
Wild black raspberry bushes in bloom.
And our yard bursting with buds and the promise of succulent, sweet fruit. We’ve savored these berries warm from the vine during summers past, but for some reason in this particular moment I become aware for the first time of the wild flowers that precede them.
My heart fills with fresh grace all new like the dawn.
I thank Him for blossoms and berries and toes wet from rain.
And for Him.
Him so big who spoke the universe into existence. Me so small and scooped into His arms which always hold me tight.
And Him taking the time in love to plant a garden gift for me to find today to satisfy my craving for pretty petals. His love and grace and all the gifts of all the days all full of opportunity sweep me away when I open my heart, softening and stilling so I may receive.
And Him always giving. And giving more. Exceedingly, abundantly. Fruit in addition to flowers. Desires satisfied as well as needs met.
Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen.
My heart floods with extravagant grace.
He sees, He hears, He knows. Everything. And He provides, swallowing the longings of my soul.
And no matter that I can’t see the sun today or feel its warm rays upon my skin all cool, it’s there giving life.
Life rising and setting every 24 hours. Life priceless and not to be wasted like so many grains of sand slipping swiftly through the hourglass.
My heart flows with grateful grace overflowing.
It’s a beautiful morning…
Linking with Kelli