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Nights spent tossing…

Thoughts whirl…

Sirens wail…

Dwellings, once erected of freshly hewn boards, now lie in ruin…

Skin sags, bones ache, feeble smiles reveal empty spaces…

Bruised and bandaged knees…

Tears coursing down dusty cheeks…

Voices raised in anger, pretense masking truth…

Eyes accuse, condemn, or look away…

Ears tuned to tales unfounded…

Cracks in pavement…

Relationships breached…

Lab results that grip the heart, cloud the future…

Words smeared on walls…

Wasted minds, frail bodies, desperate souls…

Garbage piled, junk cast off, all that is unwanted is merely discarded, left to rot…

Babies, too…

These are only a few signs of life after the Fall—exhibit A in a long line of the unfortunate evidences you and I live with today and every day of our temporal sojourn.

But when my shoulders sag, when longings remain unfulfilled,

when chaos and confusion reign, when music ceases within,

when the Tempter sneers in mockery,

when the light is dim and I start to think there is only pain, ugliness, heartache—

the road I tread being gouged with one pothole after another…

My God whispers:

There is beauty in the midst.

Peach_blossoms_and_a_bee

A few steps outside and I remember.

The perfect symmetry of a peach blossom,

the dance of a honeybee,

the blue sky against a golden landscape—all remind me

that even as man corrupts creation and its creatures,

God is yet at work and all is not lost.

The Savior has come, and will someday come again.

To make all things new.

The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because the Lord has anointed Me to preach good tidings to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn, to console those who mourn in Zion, to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they may be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.  –  Isaiah 61:1-3

 

(Photo courtesy of Dennis Brown)

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