I sift through the "business" of a household...the returning of correspondance, the orchestrating of schedules and just as my self-pitying flesh rears its ugly head in the "drudgery" of details, a love note appears on my screen....Inbox: "mae"
Bird's poem....these words for a "poetic power" contest sent by her teacher....
Spring
The flowers bloom.
The trees grow.
In Spring, it is Easter time.
Everything is beautiful.
We eat apples in Spring.
The birds sing.
Yes, Bird...you, indeed, sing....you are speaking the language of your Teacher...
Spring...
There is a spring of living water.....a fountain flowing from Emmanuel's veins....a flooding of grace and mercy making all things new...Hope rising...
The flowers bloom...
"The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the Word of our Lord stands forever"....when we meet the Word through the Word, we bloom wherever He plants us....wildflowers in His vast garden of eternity...Hope rising...
The trees grow...
From a tree, where sorrow and love flow mingled down, redemption....this love pouring on us "the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that we may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord".... our roots deepen in His assurance; we offer His grace-shade to the weary...Hope rising...
In Spring, it is Easter time. Everything is beautiful....
Pink tutus, delicate fingers, swirling and twirling, hearts stretching, laughter bubbling...Bird dances in a fit of giggles....an outward expression of inward joy....Bird who once fearfully shivered behind my wings, now flies out...her esteem rising...the discovery of who He made her to be showing its first buds....new Life emerging outside of our nest...Hope rising...
We eat apples in Spring....
In the beginning, forbidden fruit was eaten, and all was spoiled...the winter of death emerged....But, Truth died and rose....the Way of Life made apparent, and now His unseen fruit hangs all around us ripe for the faith-picking...we feast on apples for He has come....we feast for we are the apple of His eye...Hope rising...
The birds sing.....
"For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them"....His workmanship....workmanship in greek: poema....His workmanship; His poem....Indeed, our Bird sings....for she is His workmanship, His poem....our Bird sings the melody of Her King...Hope rising...
Spring.
The flowers bloom.
The trees grow.
In Spring, it is Easter time.
Everything is beautiful.
We eat apples in Spring.
The birds sing.
Beautiful Bird,
Continue to sing and dance for your King...You are His poetic power.
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