I take a deep breath and I can feel the warm welcome of spring as I inhale. The birds are singing their melody —a back and forth concerto of their own making. The cat idly stretches in the sun, inviting its warmth. The chickens are clucking, making known their consternation due to some bother or another. The newly planted flowers are bursting with their many hues. A dragonfly zips by and dazzles with its bold colors. Little sprouts of green bravely sprout from their seed in dirt solid and red. At every turn, I see the promise of life before me.
It strikes me now, as I sit in this contemplative state. A remnant of death among the living. I know it won’t remain for long. I notice its brown and dry-cracked texture. The winds of change will blow through soon enough and it will be swept away. Death and any tell-tale signs will all have disappeared. The tree will be the fullness of green with the veins of life to be seen.
Romans 12 reminds me of a bigger and better change than what I currently observe. A call to mind-renewal that transforms. There is a process of soul-blooming that I know is happening inside of me. The dead is revived and life is sprouting forth awaiting for the day of full bloom.
But it is, as I recount from another verse, a change that is solely dependent on the spirit of the Author of Life living in me. The wind, I surrender to its blowing. A breeze moves over every part of me, through me and I welcome the way it refreshes; I remember that I am rooted when that same breeze strengthens and strips away those dead remnants —making way for life.
We all, with unveiled faces, are looking as in a mirror at the glory of the Lord and are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory; this is from the Lord who is the Spirit. 2 Corinthians 3:18 (CSB)
A faithfulness that goes beyond the scope of any earthly example. I cannot fathom it, but in the most scandalous of ways am imparted the grace to experience it. In the promise of being made new, a deep and drastic change is occurring within me. While there are days that the lingering leaves which have yet to be blown away are what sorrow my soul, I am ever reminded by the many glimpses of a faithful work being accomplished in me.
Nature unfolds in its grandeur, proclaiming the faithfulness of Elohim.
The works of creation tell His story and I feel their reverberating song deep in my bones. The beauty of transformation is, in part, the process. Watching…feeling…the old slip away and the new spring forth like soft buds on a grand oak tree. He is faithful to complete the work He began. It is perfected in His timing. I can look and find peace in a God who is working in every detail; in every sorrow and every joy.
A faithful love. I pray that I am met with it every morning, as I echo what the psalmist says. It is my want, it is my desire and plea. A faithful love — It is already there, but to see it and be aware of it, to know of its reach into my seemingly unreachable spaces. This changes me.
Let it be my trust and let it be my guide.
As sure as the sun sets after every rise, so is the faithfulness of God. What He began, He will finish.