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Song of the Holy Morning
by Laura Swindon-Ross I woke up one morning, and crept out into the garden, before any other creature was awake. Even the birds had not yet begun their songs, even the stealthy cat, had not yet begun her seeking for those things she sought to seek. All there was, was me and the soft dew on the sleeping roses, and the Lord. Now, as I wandered into the Lord's garden, a certain clarity came upon me, as sometimes visits in a moment of blessedness; and I realised a simple, but such a bright, eternal truth! I realised that each day was my own, in this garden of God's keeping; each day was my own to cherish and nurture and enjoy, even as the good gardener cherishes and nurtures and enjoys his precious flowers. I realised in that instant, as the new dawn sun shone down upon me, that God gives us all our days as gifts. What shall we do with them, these precious, gifted days? Shall we gift them on to others, wrapped in happiness and joy, spreading the good sunshine of the Lord? Or shall we just let them pass by, one behind the other, like a river running on, knowing only that someday it must reach the sea. I say, we should make every day count for what it surely is - a sacred present from the Lord. Every moment that we live, we must be alive, vibrant with the gift that God has given us. And in that life, we must make the beauty of our gifts to others, show them that we care for them, offer our joy and love and peace, for in this way, as plantsmen of this beauteous, gloried earth, we will wake one day to find that we ourselves are walking in the garden that God made. And who knows? Maybe it looks like the dawn of a sleepy summers day, before the cat, before the birds, before even the sacred treasure of that single bright-wing thought occurs, when the dew will leave its kiss upon the roses. Laura Swindon-Ross This work is copyright, all rights reserved. I'm a teacher and Christian writer. Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |