He has already stripped so much, how can I trust Him to take the last little budding blooms and wipe them out as well? How in this world, bent with so much brokenness and evil, can I believe that He is good and will be faithful to those I love? (Crying, "Glory!" is affirming His holiness and goodness). If I keep making, baking, creating, cleaning and loving, in my broken way, maybe I can keep the tall trees safe from the One whose voice strips the forest bare. Maybe He will stop His stripping and let them flourish. I confuse bearing leaves with bearing fruit, that what looks like death on the outside is new life and greater growth from within.
I want to cling to my small little flower, heedless to the majestic mountains that sing their song. I wonder if the symphony is made of color?
Medicine from Sacred Scripture:
"For My thoughts are not your thoughts and My ways not your ways," declares the Lord. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts. As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is My word that goes out from My mouth: It will not return to Me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. You will go out with joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands." Isaiah 55:8-12
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