Scotland.
Two days ago I was gardening in shirtsleeves, enjoying
seeing new blossom forming, the rhubarb beginning to bulge up from the earth,
and tidying the winter storms’ detritus from the lawn.
Today, a white curtain of snowflakes blots out a clear
sighting down the road, and I’m just hoping that blossom on the pear tree isn’t
frozen down to its little socks. And now, as I write, the sun is peeking through
the mottled whiteness.
It’s the last day of March, and as I recall, March came in
like a lamb, so I guess I should have expected the lion to show up today. If
one puts any store by old adages …
The only old adages I count on are those I read in the
Bible. I know them to be true because I experience them in my life, regularly.
Jesus never leaves me. When I walk through the valleys, he’s with me. When I
sing on the mountaintops, he’s there singing harmony.
Last night I gathered with a few others to watch a short
video of Helen Berhane, an Eritrean singer who couldn’t stop herself singing
new songs telling the gospel story, and it so offended the government that they
threw her into a container in the desert, hot in the day, freezing at night, no
sanitation or light, and crowded with other prisoners. She didn’t stop singing
her new songs. She couldn’t stop telling others about Jesus.
After over three years of torture and beatings, she was
finally freed to die. But God had other plans for her, and today she lives in
Denmark, still singing God’s praises. A true hero of the faith.
Sunshine or snow-shower, the Lord has drawn my boundaries in
pleasant places. And may I never forget those who witness to the truth despite
hardship and persecution.
May I sing God’s praises today, through whatever
circumstances come my way.
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