“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
Matthew 6:25-27 NIV
Cool breezes tickled my face when I stepped onto my patio. Days ago, freezing temperatures altered my garden by transforming most of it into ugly brown.
Leaves and flowers drooped. Once colorful blooms begged to be taken out of their misery.
As pink colored the sky, shadowy, bare trees appeared along my lakefront. In the distance birds cawed, tweeted, and trilled.
Only feet from my porch, instead of seeing a lush, green oak tree, I easily saw the sky through its nearly bare limbs.
A cluster of tiny birds danced among the branches. Their dark feathers blended in with the scattered leaves. Despite the gloomy scene, they chirped a delightful tune. In the dim light, I couldn’t distinguish their true colors nor identify their species.
Even though occasionally, they visited my garden, a larger group flew in to enjoy the day.
After a weekend of vertigo, the chipper creatures presented me with a gift. They ignored the ugliness of dead and dying foliage around them. The lack of leaf cover didn’t deter them from visiting. They flapped their wings, chirped, and danced among the limbs.
The sun rises each morning on my year, whether it is beautiful or dismal and freeze-affected. I can choose to focus on what was damaged or find delightful surprises despite the destruction.
We can focus on what we have lost or find comfort in the miracles that can come even in adversity.
As the sun rose, the wee visitors disappeared. However, their appearance reminded me of God’s provision.
Heavenly Father, thank you for not leaving us even in our trials. When we think you are gone, help us see you in unexpected ways.
Amen
