The sepia monotony of winter is finally giving way to the
riot of spring colours. Sitting in my window, I see a branch of the forsythia
beginning to open yellow and bright, a colour splashed along the drive as the dozens
of daffodils swell and burst open, their trumpets heralding a softer season
coming.
God knows our needs down to the most minute detail. And it
is often through the minute detail of his creation that he speaks peace and
consolation.
Somehow I need to appropriate that encouragement into the
technological tedium I often feel challenged with. Messenger links that fail to
work. Signature pages for a tax return that require signing and uploading. A protest
letter about the proliferation of plastic which requires me to sign on to a
different platform than I use, so makes me hesitate and draw back. Yet another
banking issue for Mom. Just a lot of little gnats of technological unease that
can undermine peace of mind.
I’m watching the daffs bob in the rising wind. Slightly bowed
down, but still standing.
May I bow only to you, Lord Jesus, this day and every day. Strengthen
resolve, encourage perseverance, and keep my eyes above the waves. (bit of a
mixed metaphor there, sorry about that…)
May I take inspiration from those saints who I know, and
those who have gone before. And on that note, happy St Patrick’s day.
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