Though in self-imposed isolation, Hubby and I still maintain our morning walk schedules. This past week has been glorious with bright sunshine, blue skies and temperatures hovering close to the teens. This morning was different.
Under grey skies, a slight drizzle and the prospect of a trudging around the track garbed in rain gear, I found it less inviting than usual. I did it, though admittedly with less enthusiasm than on some days. It was on the way home that the inspiration for this article opened itself up to me.
Although I鈥檇 spent several days this week planting and weeding in the garden (I鈥檓 not boasting, just stating a West Coast fact), I hadn鈥檛 paid a lot of attention to the one daffodil blooming in our front yard. It was there, a kind of mysterious transplant among snowdrops and primroses. This morning the Lord spoke to my heart as to how that yellow beauty relates to our world鈥檚 current crises. First, though, here鈥檚 something that Madeleine L鈥橢ngle wrote:
鈥淟ife is the greatest gift that could ever be conceived. A daffodil pushing up through the dark earth to the spring, knowing somehow deep in its roots that spring and light and sunshine will come, has more courage and more knowledge of the value of life than any human being.鈥�
I assume that other faith-based folks like me still experience moments, or perhaps even days, of despair over the current situation. It鈥檚 serious business! Perhaps that鈥檚 when we should call to mind that courageous bright spot of yellow in an otherwise gloomy outlook.
鈥�Let your light shine in front of men. Then they will see the good things you do and will honour your Father Who is in heaven.鈥� Matthew 5:16 NLV
鈥淚鈥檒l be a sunbeam [daffodil] for Him.鈥� (Sunday School song we used to sing)
Shine!
听
听
