Saturday, May 21, 2011

Dear God,

With your help I am changing the lines of our fence row. Nearly seven years ago the line was ugly, straight, and high. There was no definition, no openings, and no real life. Yet, by your leading to welcome your spirit onto our property where others can walk through the woods, pause to meditate, to pray, and to reflect upon eternal themes, I am cleaning and clearing. Today at the end of the fence leading into the woods, I cut down maple and wild cherry trees wound tight with hearty, deadly vines. As the trees fell, the light suddenly burst into being. The sunshine fell upon my face and I felt warmed by its glow.

Later when I went inside and climbed the steps to the second floor, I looked out and saw how the lines had been altered. It was if I was seeing for the first time what you had seen all along, each plant and tree defined, taking their rightful place, breathing in new life all around them, the light shining through, and their gentle movements with the breath of your spirit.

As is so often the case, I learn life lessons during daily exercises. As I cut down dead trees, dig up old roots, and remove vines determined to kill, I realize you set forth opportunities to learn every single day. When I apply the lessons to my own life, I identify the dead places within me, the archaic roots that haphazardly steer my life, and the vines that choke me. In those moments I stop, pray, and give thanks for without the exercises how would I ever grow into the design you intend?

Lead me, Lord,
to do
your bidding.
Continue to
teach me
the lessons
I need
to learn.
Remould the
rigid lines
in my
own life
so you
have the chance
to reshape me
the way
you desire,
I pray.

Love, Andrea