April…
No complaining here…
There is beauty all around!
Today’s gift.
Tag: Today's gift
It Was Time…
I decided. Last night. Out of desperation? Perhaps. Considering the prospects of another day forecast to be cold, dismal, wet. A Saturday, no less. Empty. Gray. I decided.
It was time. Time for a change. After a long week. A week of closeting in the house. A week of early to bed. Late to rise. Random needed naps in between. A head full of who-knows. Blowing my nose. Sneezing to the world, “I am sick and I don’t like it!” After a woe-is-me week. It was time.
I decided that it was time for a change. Since the road to my recovery seemed imminent. I decided it was time to venture out. Not far. Just a 100 foot radius. Just the yard. And not alone.
I decided that after a miserable week it was time to venture out, with my camera. It was time, once again, to try the 5 – shot challenge. Would it be possible to photograph five things in my yard on a gray Saturday that would be worthy of publishing in this blog? What could there possibly be that would pique my interest, that would be noteworthy on such a day as this?
The morning greeted me with a snowy surprise. Here’s some of what I found.
It was time. Indeed, it was time again to remember and enjoy, amid the challenges, that each day is God’s gift.
It’s January – Unexpected Delight
My walk was about to end. Thankfully so. For over an hour, the morning’s brisk air poked at my cold, rosy cheeks and as I wandered along the path, I wondered, “What am I doing here?” Brrrr…
My car waiting in the parking lot offered the promise of warmth. The end was in sight. But, then, I stopped. A flurry of activity caught my eye. In the middle of a scrubby bit of brush that was all twigs and a few berries clinging to bare branches there were … Robins!
Really? Robins in Michigan, in January? In the middle of a short burst of snowflakes, a half dozen robins, feathers fluffed to insulate against the winter cold, plucked frozen berries from the branches for their breakfast.
Robins! Imagine that! I thought I had seen my last robin months ago. Yet there they were in the middle of January, no less. Is spring just around the corner? Why did they come back so soon?
Then I realized that they never left. Even though I missed them and thought they were gone, they’ve been around all along.
What was I doing here? Without realizing, walking this path, I was opening myself up to the delights of God’s world. In spite of the blustery January morning, this week’s unexpected delight came in the form of ones who were gone, at least in my mind, yet never left. Today’s delightful gift.
It’s January
It’s January. It’s a short sentence that doesn’t warrant any other punctuation than a period. No exclamation points to be sure. It’s a dismissive little sentence that for some explains away the blahs and bluesy feelings one might have this time of the year. The cold air, the biting wind, the cloudy sky that gets gray and grayer, the dim mornings and the early darkness that creeps its way into what was once a hopeful day – All of these are scapegoat explanations for the real reasons for the blues, a substitution for things people don’t wish to think about or share. It’s January.
It’s January. There are two babies. Maybe three. All of them clinging to life. Living yet, but precariously close to the edge. There are two sets of parents, hopeful. Maybe a third set, but for them the hope may be fading. There’s Finley and Danielle and perhaps another, all three ‘fearfully and wonderfully made.’
It’s January. There’s Finley, or Fin for short and Danielle, Dani, to her friends and family. Fin, a six month-old, smiley, seemingly healthy, doing what a six month old should be doing. Dani, tiny, tiny Dani out of the womb for a couple weeks only, hooked up to a mile of tubes and wires. Finley and Danielle and the other, praising the God who loves them by doing what little ones are created naturally to do.
It’s January. When it was no longer safe to be in the womb; when what should have been a safe and friendly place, warm and nurturing, became hostile; it was time for Danielle to be born. Three months ahead of schedule, weighing in at a pound and an ounce, before anyone expected, she came face to face with the ones who love her. Her parents, firm in the knowledge that the One who loved Dani first would provide and sustain her, are filled with hope.
It’s January. Finley. Ah, lovely Finley. Precious and beautiful. Perky and fun. A child of God. A month or so ago she got sick and wasn’t able to shake whatever it was that was causing the illness. After weeks in the hospital with doctors and specialists, the answer came. Her liver is no good. She would need another. A transplant. Her parents, confident that their precious Fin is in the hands of the God who loves her, now wait. … And now somewhere there may be parents, unknown to all of us, of the other child, also waiting.
It’s January. I’d like to say that I can give a full report on how the babies are doing. I can’t. It’s too early. No one knows the future. No one knows the paths these babies will eventually travel. I have to leave all of this in God’s hands, realizing that life doesn’t happen according to my plans, my ways of thinking. God’s ways and thoughts are way beyond my understanding. What I do know is that “Our only comfort in life and in death is that we belong to our faithful savior, Jesus Christ… “1
It’s January. While that little two-word sentence does not really give a good explanation for how things are, I’ll admit the cold, dark, loneliness of January days can get to me. However, as I write this on this cold January morning the sun is coming up again. Today promises to be one of blue skies and sunshine. Cloudy skies or clear, God is good. He will take care of things for us. That’s today’s gift.
1 – Heidelberg Catechism Q and A 1
New Year’s Day
For New Year’s Day 2022…
“Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7
Today’s gift.
Something
This morning
There’s something about the relentless wind
There’s something about the stinging sand
There’s something about the rolling water, the crashing waves
There’s something about being there
…To hear the relentless wind
…To feel the stinging sand
…To see the rolling water, the crashing waves
There’s something humbling in all this…
It’s knowing that the One who holds the wind, water and waves
Loves us more than we can know
“More majestic than the thunders of mighty waters, more majestic than the waves of the sea, majestic on high is the Lord!”
Psalm 93:4
Today’s gift.
An Advent Moon
This morning as I walked, the waning crescent moon winked in and out between spotty predawn clouds. Maybe you saw it too. It’s the same moon here as there. A waning crescent.
The crescents are my favorite. The flashy full phase is fine, too. However, the delicate fine features of that tiny, frail sliver of light make me smile. That’s what I saw this morning. I smiled.
That illuminated crescent is slowly going away though. Each day it’s getting smaller and smaller, until one day, poof it will be gone! No more moon. At least that’s what it looks like.
Yet, the moon is still there. All of it. Even during the crescents. Look closely. It’s all there, the complete sphere. It’s just not terribly obvious sometimes. It takes some looking.
Last Sunday was the first Sunday of Advent. Once again, for those who commemorate such things, it began a time of anticipation and preparation for the coming of the Savior, Jesus. The celebration culminates on Christmas Day. Sadly, for many, after all the hoopla surrounding the holiday passes, our interest in the birth of the Christ Child and even the Christ Child himself wanes until one day, poof, it’s gone.
Here, on these cold, clear, crisp Michigan mornings, the beauty of the crescent moon presents itself. And even though it’s light dims for a time, the moon is still all there. The Good News of Christmas is, even though our faith may dim, the One whose birth we celebrate again, is always here. That’s one of the names we know him by – Immanuel, God with us.
Today’s Gift.
Familiar Paths
Even though it was a gray day, I decided not to skip my Sunday afternoon walk. I chose to wander in a place I’ve roamed many times before. Even though the wind blew mini-blizzards of snow all around, I was greeted with occasional patches of calm blue sky along with brief, blinding bursts of sunshine.
In spite of the gloominess of the day, I decided to take my camera along and take the ‘Gray Day 5-Shot Challenge.’ Could I come up with five good enough pictures worthy of posting here in the blog?
Since I get to decide, the answer is yes. Here they are, the five shots, the best of the day. Oh, and a little haiku to go along with them.
Familiar Paths
Walked familiar paths
Sadly, different today
Fondly remembered
Yesterday’s gift.
Thanksgiving Day – 2021
It’s Thanksgiving Day. It’s a new day that the Lord has made. There’s certainly a lot for which to be thankful. We all have our own list, I’m sure. Hopefully, we’ve had the opportunity to share it with those we love. No doubt those we love are at the top our list.
And, let’s not forget to whom we owe our thanks and why.
“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning;
Great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”‘ Lamentations 3:22-24
Today’s gift.
Dawn
Dawn, God made new day
Rejoice, be glad, be thankful
Gift wrapped in delight
Walk as Children of Light 