Friday, March 6, 2009

Dearest God,

I love a quiet day. It seems as though all is right in the world. It's an illusion, I know. However, quiet moments allow me to think, reflect, be silent, allowing my soul some much needed rest.

The quiet solitude opens doors to visions I would otherwise be too busy to see. Like standing at the window, looking out over the backyard and seeing green pushing through the soil. It's time again for spring to come with all its radiant beauty. Before I know it, my garden will be full of color. Another season will have gone, giving way to the next. That's what I love about Indiana - four beautiful seasons.

As I observe the changes taking place in my garden, there are changes taking place inside me. I think they are good for the most part, but even good changes can be painful, stinging their way into existence. And what I know for certain is that just as the ground gives way to new life, so must I if I am to continue. Otherwise, what good is a stagnant, dull, no-growth life? If my life does not lift you up, does not give some evidence of hope, faith, and trust, does not learn from my mistakes, does not take leaps of faith, does not breathe in new air, then what can be said about me and my life in you?

I must take the risk of new growth. Yes, the tender shoots will be vulnerable to the storms that may come. There may be dry times when I will wonder if I have enough energy to keep going and growing. The winds of change will come, urging me to rise up, to stand tall, to be courageous and not everyone will like my change. Sometimes I will feel the heat bearing down upon me. I will want to wilt and drop but what is faith if not to hold me up while I am in the midst of the heat? And when I feel I am drowning in my own tears, I will stand anyway because I will hear your voice calling me to trust you once again.

Even now I look out and see the tiny green among the dark brown of winter. Hope is alive for my garden and for me.

Wondrous God,
who else
can I trust
more than you?
I cannot mistake
the green
for something else.
It is
new life.
It insists
upon taking
its turn,
realizing the
green is temporary.
Even the green
will give way
at its
appointed time
when you
give the word.

Trusting you, Andrea