Each morning when I open the blinds and each evening as I close them, I observe a few moments of meditation. There is always something interesting …like pictures in a book. The sky is painted differently in the first dawn of day than it is in the first darkening of dusk.
In the morning I invariably ask God for direction for the day and at evening I give thanks for that direction. And there are magpies each morning to remind me that God looks after his bird kingdom as well as his children and sometimes the final sparkle of fading street lights across town in the a.m. tell me it is time to turn my own lights off, and that my nighttime rest is over and the day must begin.
Today I looked up at the beauty of the morning heavens, then looked down at the street below my window. What a mess that street was. Recent freezing rains had left it as slick as any hockey rink and earlier snows were piled like dirty laundry along the sides. I could see patches of green grass that reminded me that somewhere under all this sodden mess is the promise of spring.
It is sometimes hard to live in both worlds…the messes of earth and the promises of heaven. I guess the promise of spring is like the promise of heaven. We believe each winter that spring will come, regardless of how things might look right now and so also, as Christians we believe there is a place for us in heaven.
I guess our job is to clean up the messed up things of earth as best we can with God’s help and wait for the promise of spring and the same goes for what is in our personal lives…for God has given us the promise of heaven. Both are on the agenda…we’re just not certain of the date.
