How To Rest In The Promise

I look outside and see the signs. A fresh wave of hope washes over me. I know, I believe. I trust that even in this, in seasons of terror and war, of gangs and guns and cybercrime we have a deeper hope, a promise to cling to. The vision, it's clearer than before, even when us kids ran free through city parks and gas prices hung low. Way low. I watch the birds shaking it out in the water bath, splashing drops of winter onto the deck. And I hear the voices of days long gone, of children calling out loud, playing hide-and-seek in the darkness, unafraid and free. How do I protect my grandchildren in school? At McDonald's? In the grocery store? I clutch the vision and carry it like a silken purse, hold it tight and wear it like one of those protective vests law enforcement don.

This is insanity, what I see on TV! Orange jumpsuits and hearts broken wide. Madness it is and pour down your Hope. Please.

The birds they sing gaily, not a care or worry, and He says to think about the birds and I do, but those worry lines make creases. And my brows furrow doubt, all knit together like twins working a hard puzzle. So, I aim my sight high, somewhere above Judy Garland's rainbow, the place that knows it all, gently wipes our sweat and tears, takes our shaking hands in His, even in this. The daffodils, they signal sweet sign of encouragement, glorious yellows splashing across landscapes, tulips patiently waiting their turn to delight. Delicious scent of Daphne wafts through the atmosphere and thoughts of evil and crime are rendered silent for one glorious moment. I will not give up! I will keep searching for the beautiful, for the gifts, and the daily news renders me speechless but the light is always stronger than the dark.

 

 

A friend once told me to never give up. To hang in there and keep looking up. To pray at all times and sing joy to the world.

He said to say thank you even when it's pitch black. A vision is worth everything when aimed high above, and He said to help others with their vision too. And when life gets tough, don't forget those birds of the air.

 

 Like those Laughing Gulls in North Carolina, they soar above it all, and I pitch my tent on the other side of worry, for a few moments at least, resting peacefully in the Promise.

Especially in this.