Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Dear God,

Your love is like gentle rain that falls upon the ground hardly noticed.  It is sweet quenching the thirst of the dry ground.  Everything it touches reaches toward heaven.  So much beauty, so much.

In the early morning hours as I write I watch outside my kitchen window as the rain falls.  It is quiet now except for the birdsong.  If I had searched, I am confident I would have found the little bird on the roof near the window by our bed.  As I lay silently listening, I could have sworn it cried out, "Sing praise to the Lord, sing praise.  Sing praise all the earth, sing praise.  Sing praise all you who hear, sing praise to the Lord."  I smiled as I rose from my bed ready to join in the singing.

You are worthy
to be praised,
Great Master of the Cosmos.
To you
let me
sing out
my praise.
Thank you
for the birdsong,
for his challenge
to sing,
for his witness
in the
early morn.

Love, Andrea